Seasons of Beautiful Wolfram
by HARPG0
Summary: Will Yuuri and Wolfram be together? Final Chapter! Note: If shonen ai isn't your fav, please feel free to move along to the next story. Thanks!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** This is my first Kyou Kara Maou fan fic. So, I'm hoping this story will turn out okay… Wish me luck. Also, this story is just for fun and not for profit. So, don't take anything seriously.

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Seasons of Beautiful Wolfram

Chapter 1

Shibuya Yuuri was in his office, thoroughly bored. He'd been signing papers since early morning and, now, he was hoping to take a lunch break if the "high and mighty" slave driver Lord Gwendal von Voltaire would allow him only that much without frowning or adding another wrinkle to his brow. Yuuri suspected that, even if the administrator agreed, he would still feel guilty for asking in the first place.

The dark grey haired man coughed politely in his direction, a document in hand. "I think I should point out that you've just approved to have Anissina use you as a test subject for her latest invention called," then his voice trailed off momentarily while taking the paper up to the light for a better look, "Mr. Hygiene O'matic-back scrubber-zit popper-and-toe nail-clipper-kun."

Yuuri's eyes flew open wide at that, taking the paper back.

"You saved me," he said and mumbled to himself, "signed the wrong dotted line. Ugh!"

Yuuri's black eyes looked up to see a hint of concern in Gwendal's face. _Not good._ He was about to get another wrinkle on his brow.

"And, at the bottom, I'll make a note that says you can't be used as a test subject, either."

There was relief in Gwendal's Indigo eyes. "Thank you, Heika."

_Well, now, he can't be mad at me for suggesting a lunch break_, Yuuri thought mischievously. _And we both get what we want_. He really needed that lunch break now—even if he couldn't always make out Shin Makoku food. Maybe, today's lunch would be something he could recognize. It didn't matter. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation as well as to rid himself of writer's cramp.

A tall, brown haired soldier approached the open door and stopped suddenly. He was used to closed doors. Those could be easily knocked on. Now, he wasn't sure if he should wait to be noticed or to knock on the open door. He chose the latter. Awkwardly, the soldier looked in—wondering if it was okay to enter or not. Lord von Voltaire was known for being moody on a good day. The soldier prayed that he wasn't in a bad mood right now. Because, if he was, it was only going to get worse pretty quickly.

"Yes?" Gwendal grumped.

"I was ordered to convey a message, sir."

"And?" Gwendal said back, eyeing him.

"Um…the message is that Lord Wolfram von Bielefeld will be here in a few minutes and wants to see you."

"Oh," his brother said with very little interest. Wolfram had taken some soldiers to patrol the northern border. It was too soon for them to be back. They'd only just started after breakfast today.

The soldier looked down at the floor with a blank face.

Gwendal blinked back at that. It suddenly dawned on him that the man standing before him was one of Wolfram's most trusted men. And, even though his blond haired "Little Lord Brat" of a brother could be a major problem with his fiery temper and sudden outbursts, he was wise enough to have this particular soldier by his side as much as possible. Wolfram was good with a sword and enjoyed the company of others with similar talents, for he did not suffer fools gladly. And, when sending messages, the blond was more likely to send a new recruit who could be easily spared.

Wearily, the double black folded his arms on the table and rested his head on them. "What? He's back already? Why me?" His muffled comments seemed to shock the soldier a little. The man's eyes narrowed with something that looked like thinly disguised anger. Then, he suddenly stood at attention, awaiting orders or further questions. Gwendal saw that, too. It didn't sit well with him.

"Fine. You're dismissed," Gwendal said and watched the tall soldier exit the room. Gwendal took a few more casual steps toward the door and saw the solder walk down the hallway, then pick up the pace—almost at a run-- and head towards the front doors of the castle. _Not good._ The administrator walked cautiously toward the window and saw Wolfram on his horse just outside. It was hard to see his brother's expression from just seeing the top of a blond head, but there was something…off. There were only five soldiers with him and one was offering Wolfram a hand down? _Why?_

"I'm sorry, Heika?" Gwendal said distractedly, still looking down.

"I just asked if we can break for lunch," Yuuri whined from behind the desk. "I'm really looking forward to…well…whatever we're having…which is fine with me."

Somewhere inside his head, Yuuri thought he could hear a voice say "wimp."

Gwendal gave a "humph" as a response, walked over to Yuuri's desk and began to review the next document. _Oh, joy…the town mayor wants permission to knock down someone's home in order to construct a fountain in the shape of our new maou—with water coming out of his… Oh, they've included a diagram. Revolting…_

Gwendal looked over at Yuuri again. Maybe, it would be better to let the young king go after all. "Fine," he said again and saw Yuuri's face shoot up, bright and happy. He got up quickly and gave a polite little wave on his way to the door. _Great! I can get out of here for awhile and escape_. He grinned at the prospect. But the look on his face faded quickly when he turned back with a spring in his step and found his blond fiancé standing in his way.

Wolfram, wearing his typical blue uniform with a sword at his side, had a pained look in his emerald eyes. It wasn't the same pain that Yuuri saw when he first proposed to him—which was literally a slap in the face. The proposal was an accident even if the slap wasn't. The customs in this world were weird. But, now, Yuuri could see the beautiful blond—yes, even Yuuri reluctantly acknowledged him as unbelievably attractive—staring back at him, seemingly hurt about something.

The maou mentally braced himself for what was to happen next. It was usually some sort of bellowing on Wolfram's part followed by the words "cheater" or "wimp." He prayed fireballs wouldn't be involved. But he really had no idea why Wolfram would feel that way today. It wasn't like he'd been chatting with the maids or flirting with any dignitaries. He'd spent all morning after their breakfast together with Gwendal signing papers. So, Yuuri was confused. Still, he reasoned to himself, it might be faster to just let him throw his tantrum and be over with it.

"Ummm…Wolfram?" Yuuri started cautiously. "You look…" _Hurt._ "You look…upset. Is there something…?"

Wolfram entered the room, ignoring the young maou and went to the front of the desk. The blond had two soldiers with him—the tall, brunette messenger from before and another, short red haired soldier that Gwendal easily recognized as another personal favorite of his brother's.

"You can go now," Wolfram said to them quietly. It didn't even sound like an order. Wolfram's orders always had a mix of showmanship in them because his men were elite soldiers and, not surprisingly, he never stopped reminding them of who and what they were. In return, they were all a little in awe of him.

The pair looked at each other awkwardly and left with a little reluctance, shuffling out of the room.

Yuuri watched them, confused.

Wolfram leaned on the desk with his left hand. The right hand, seemingly, was on his hip. But Yuuri noticed that his breathing was labored. Emerald eyes opened and closed with each breath.

"We were ambushed when we were out on patrols to the north of here. Remember the place where the road forks?" Gwendal, eyes wide now, gave a curt nod as he walked around toward the window—looking out at the road that led from the north gate—as though that would tell him something more.

Wolfram swallowed hard. "They were skilled, not just your run of the mill bandits. And they were human." He leaned on the desk a little more and shook his head, blinking hard.

"Oi, Wolfram?" Yuuri said with concern. He placed a hand on Wolfram's arm. To his surprise, the blond pulled his arm back, not wanting to be touched.

"Let me say this," he breathed with his emerald eyes cutting into black ones dangerously. He turned back to his brother. "Gwendal, I think they were assassins."

"In broad daylight? It's either bold or incredibly stupid," the older man said brusquely.

"It is bold," Wolfram acknowledged, "if they were looking for someone in particular. Someone they knew would be there." He pressed his hand against his ribs again.

"Who?" Yuuri asked.

The blond gave a pained look to his brother. Wolfram wanted Yuuri out of the room, but his dolt of a brother wasn't getting the clue.

"I said, 'who,' Wolfram," Yuuri complained back with more force this time. They were going to have one of their classic bickering matches. The Japanese teen could just tell. Everyone in the castle thought it was "bickering like an old married couple," but Yuuri thought himself too young for marriage. And, like it or not, he wasn't going to marry anyone he didn't love. To make things worse, and impossible for him, Wolfram was a guy. There was no way in hell he'd marry a guy. He was not attracted to men. At least, he didn't think so.

"Who do you think they were after?" Gwendal said with a sharp edge, but he knew what was coming.

"Me." Wolfram looked to his brother because it was easier. He could just picture his fiancé's face at the mention of that and didn't want to see it for himself. Deep down, he never wanted Yuuri to stare at him with such a face. "And as much as I hate to admit it…" He didn't want to continue on. A few uneasy seconds passed. He forced air into his lungs instead.

"Well?" his brother said cautiously.

"I…I need your help," he said dryly. He gritted his teeth and uttered a small growl. _Weak. I can't look at Yuuri. This is just too weak._

"For what?" Gwendal prodded.

"For this." Wolfram pulled off his blue coat, letting it drop the floor. He had a growing, bright red stain spreading down his white shirt—which had been ripped open. It oozed blood. The hole in the shirt was just under his ribs and the bleeding, which was getting worse, needed the pressure of Wolfram's hand to slow the red flow. To Yuuri's dismay, it was dripping on the floor. And it was at that point that the demon king noticed that Wolfram had left a blood trial on the floor from the time he entered.

"Wolfram!" Yuuri said, watching his best friend losing all color in his face.

"I need a healer…I think…But I had to give you my report first. It's my duty."

Gwendal gave him another nod, but a sharp one, and took off down the hall for help. His footsteps echoed away.

Wolfram stood on shaking legs, watching with searing pain as his brother left. He knew, now, that there was no way of getting rid of his reluctant fiancé. _He will stay by my side out of pity and guilt. I hate that._

"Wolfram?" Yuuri spoke his name again, but the other was leaning hard on the desk now with his head down. The blond hated being alone with him. The teenage king should have been, somehow, tricked into leaving before being allowed to see him in this decrepit state. And, above all else, Wolfram hated to be seen as feeble.

"That's why you pulled your arm back," Yuuri said, upset now. "You were trying to hide your injury!"

"It almost worked," the soldier said as his legs finally gave way beneath him.

Wolfram was kneeling on the floor now, his head swimming. He wobbled slightly and sat down. Instantly, he felt a warm body behind him, supporting him from collapsing. Arms circled his shoulders.

"Lie down, Wolf."

"No. I-I can't… Don't make me."

"If you say so. Or, are you just being…stubborn again?" Yuuri's voice broke at the end of the sentence.

The blond clinched his fists. "I don't want your pity," he breathed, wishing he'd had the strength to look behind him to glare.

Yuuri held back sobs. "But…Wolfram! You were slashed…."

"Slashed?" Wolfram said back, annoyed. He tried his very best to sit up straight, but the pain washed over him, and he found himself leaning into Yuuri. "Look again, wimp. It's a hole, not a slash mark."

"Then what?" Black eyes narrowed.

"It's still in me," the blond said with a shaky breath, "I've been shot with an arrow."

"_Wolfram_, _no_." The double black bent to the side to get a better look, but shifted his best friend when he did it, causing a pained groan.

"Hurts." He gritted the word out between clinched teeth. He was starting to feel sick to his stomach, too.

"Sorry," Yuuri breathed. He buried his face in Wolfram's shoulder and tightened his arms around him. "Tell me what happened again."

The blond scrunched his eyes tightly and hoped his nausea would pass quickly. "Yuuri, they were waiting to ambush us. But, it made no sense. The eight of them had swords and only one had a bow and arrows. While the others were fighting—a distraction I think—I realized that the one with the arrows was aiming only for me. I could have roasted him with a fireball…but I hesitated."

The pain was bad again and Wolfram threw back his head. Yuuri looked over, but all he could do was watch.

Wolfram's hand wasn't enough to stop the blood from flowing, and it was now going down his hip onto the floor in a thin, warm rill. "Gwendal's going to be mad I'm messing up his floor—not that I care."

"Don't try to distract me," Yuuri said, holding onto his best friend. "The selfish jerk that I know wouldn't care about that." He leaned in again and said softly, "Wolfram, why did you hesitate? You knew he was going to fire an arrow at you."

"Because of you, you wimp."

"I don't understand."

The blond felt his mind going blank and fought to stay sharp. "You hate for anyone to die. You want total peace through negotiation." He took a pained breath. Yuuri tightened his grip on the shoulders. "If I'd done as my instincts told me, I'd be fine right now. But, I know how you are. I know what you believe. And, even though it may cost me dearly, I'll do anything I can for you because…" Hesitantly, Wolfram placed a hand on top of Yuuri's left hand—tempted to throw it off, but also tempted to try to lace fingers with him. He struggled with his heart for a moment, but gave up in the end. "You are a special person to me." He lowered his hand, shoulders sagged.

Yuuri blinked back tears. "Wolfram…I…uh…" He didn't know what to say. Even now, the demon king prided himself on not lying to the blond. They were friends—best friends—from his viewpoint. But, beyond that, he couldn't promise anything—and wouldn't.

"It's okay," Wolfram said sincerely. "At least, I made it back this time." He shifted his hand to his bloody side. There was a faint, green glow. "I can't think with this pain."

"But, what do you mean by 'this time'?" Yuuri wiped his eyes on his black sleeve.

"Idiot," the blond admonished quietly, "I'm a soldier. And I'll never change who and what I am. So, what do you think will happen to me one day?"

The double black didn't have an answer for that.

"At least, I can be with you one last time."

Yuuri didn't like where this conversation was going. He frowned. "Stop it," he said quietly. "We're getting you help. If it weren't for the arrow, I'd do it myself. But, I'm no healer."

"This arrow in me…feels like…it's made with…some sort of magic… When I tried to pull it out, the shaft broke with a blue shock. It burned my hand." The blond lifted his right, blood stained, hand to show burns across the thumb, fingers, and palm.

_This can't be…no!_

"Don't sound so…" _So miserable. You should be celebrating_, he thought acidly. "If I die, you're free to marry, Yuuri," the blond said, closing his eyes and leaning back more than he intended.

"Shut up and hang in there," Yuuri said angrily.

"You're right. I could still make it… However…if I don't….next time," Wolfram said sadly, "choose a woman." His words sounded bitter now. It wrenched his heart to say it, but it was the truth. He tried to laugh, but he hurt too much to try, causing, instead, a gasp of pain.

"_Shut up_."

"A woman is what you want anyway, right?" Wolfram said, emerald eyes looking far away. Yuuri, kneeling a bit now, looked over the blond's shoulders to see that the spark was leaving Wolfram's eyes. It terrified him.

The soldier gave a shaky breath. "Yes, choose a woman…someone you desire. I can't be a woman for you, Yuuri. I can't give you children, either." He felt warm tears on his cheeks now. "All I can give you is…" _My heart and that's not enough for you._ Another thin tear streaked down Wolfram's cheek. He cursed himself. Only Yuuri could make him cry. It was weak.

"I'm cold" he said suddenly. Maybe, crying made him cold.

For the double black, panic was setting in. _But I have to be calm right now!_ "Cold? Hey, you're not just saying that so that I'll keep hugging you. Right, Wolf?" Yuri tried to joke. It was lame, but he suddenly realized that "shut up" was a bad idea. He had to keep Wolfram talking until help arrived.

"I'm tired, too." His hand fell away from his bleeding side.

Yuuri rested his chin on Wolfram's shoulder, turning and trying to read his face if he could. "Then, I guess…that means I'll find you in my bed again tonight."

This time, he got a faint chuckle. "Someday, I probably won't be."

Footsteps thundered down the hall. Yuuri closed his eyes in relief as he heard the sounds of people rushing their way.

"They're coming, Wolf. You'll be fine," Yuuri promised.

"Wimp." The blond took a shallow breath and slumped back when the colors in the room faded into darkness. The last thing he felt was release. The comforting arms around him were gone.

He was alone again. As always.

_That's just like you, Yuuri. You let go of me far too easily.__ I hope you're happy now._

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"It's hard to believe that we're going through this again," Anissina said, tying her red hair back into a ponytail with a white ribbon and looking down into Wolfram's pale face.

"Well, we are. It's not that I'm ungrateful…but…," Yuuri said, turning his face up towards her, "freezing him again…like this..." His voice trailed away.

Anissina's lab had simple stone walls, high ceilings, and large windows that let the light stream in. There was a long, oak table that had two pumping mechanisms on top of it along side another container that dripped a glowing, blue liquid down a tube into a machine on the floor. Lights pulsed and a series of sprockets moved on the walls in unison.

Yuuri sat on the floor beside one of Anissina's machines that just so happened to be shaped like a black coffin with a cranberry colored lining. Inside, Wolfram's body was shrouded in a pale, white mist. With his blond hair and ivory skin, he looked like a sleeping angel. But, just to get to this point, it had taken more than an hour of Gisela's effort and healing powers to remove the arrowhead and to, quickly, stop the bleeding. But, her talents weren't enough and the green haired girl soon came to the point of exhaustion. So, Anissina suggested putting Wolfram back into her machine that, now, had pearly vapor spilling over the sides and onto the floor. The blond was in a suspended state and looked more helpless than Yuuri had ever seen him before.

For a moment, the double black cast his thoughts back to another painful time—to the time when his friend lost his heart, literally. For Wolfram's heart was once a key. It was a key to one of the four magical boxes. All of them combined had the potential to end the world. But, from banding together, and never giving up, they had managed to scrape out a victory. They came from behind and won the game. Everything turned out okay.

_But, now…_

Yuuri looked down at the porcelain face again, holding back the sudden urge to touch it. The last time they were in this very same situation, it was almost as though he could hear Wolfram's sardonic remarks urging him on—in his usual, mocking way—to rescue his "treasured fiancé." But, this time, Yuuri couldn't hear it. He felt alone.

"I hate to admit it, but…I miss you," Yuuri whispered to the sleeping blond with one hand holding on to the side of the machine. "You know, you are the only one here who will tell me what you really think. You challenge me and, when it's really important, support me—even if you disagree with me on…just about…everything." He chuckled a little at that. "I need you back, Wolfram. This castle is too quiet without you." _And I'm just a little bit…lonely._

The door opened behind Yuuri and Günter came bustling in with an oversized tome from the library and his white cape defying gravity by floating behind. "When you told me about the arrow burning Wolfram's hand, I just knew that it was ringing a bell somewhere." He busied himself.

"Ummm…Günter?" Yuuri said, feeling confused. "I don't understand. Shouldn't Wolfram be okay? I mean, once Gisela is rested enough, she can try again to heal Wolfram. So, you see…?" The double black shifted on the floor and sat Indian style.

Anissina approached Günter and looked over his shoulder to see the pages, which annoyed him greatly. However, he decided to accept it with grace since the maou was watching them.

"Well, I sincerely wish that I could say otherwise. But, in no respect can I wholeheartedly confirm that. Well, to put it simply, this entire affair is certainly troubling, Heika. I doubt that I shall sleep even a wink tonight over it." He ran his finger along the edge of the book, found a purple satin ribbon that he used as a bookmark and opened to the page. He shook his head sadly as he ran his finger down.

"When you mentioned to me the arrow and the burns on Wolfram's hand when he tried to," Günter scrunched up his eyes at the very thought of what had come next, "extract it… Well, that had me thinking about a story that one of my tutors told me as a child." He ran his slender finger down the page a little further. "Ah! Here it is!"

Anissina looked at the page and, distractedly, pushed a strand of red hair behind her ear. "Oh, I see your point."

"Most certainly."

"Most certainly…what?" Yuuri said back, standing up now. His heart was starting to beat harder in his chest.

"Well, Heika, in this record, written at the time of the Expected Coming of the Great Sage…"

"And?" Yuuri interrupted. This was taking forever.

"Oh…Oh, well… It says here," he pointed down," that the humans had developed a variety of new armaments to be used against the Mazoku. One particularly formidable weapon was called 'the painted arrow.'" He stopped briefly and asked, "Does anyone have the arrowhead?"

Anissina nodded, went to her desk and opened it. "I was going to run some experiments on it," the red head hinted. She removed a small tray and handed it over to Günter. Inside, the arrowhead shimmered up at them. It was made of a rainbow, multicolored stone with strands of colors that ran together.

"Heika," he said knowledgably, "this stone is called rainbow obsidian. It's related to the Houseki stones that you've come across before on your travels. In our world, the rainbow obsidian is an exceedingly rare, rare stone. It can only be mined in the human lands and can be very harmful to any Mazoku who come in contact with it. To be quite blunt, Heika, it does more than sap our strength. It burns us."

Yuuri blinked at the news.

"But, the painted arrow, as a weapon of war, is more than that. The arrowhead, itself, is dipped in poison."

"I see. So, that's why it was so hard for Gisela to close the wounds and to keep him stable," Anissina said darkly, crossing her arms in frustration.

"And the arrow has a long, thin stripe of magic metallic paint along its shaft that burns any Mazoku who should try to remove it. The paint, of course, being made of ground up Houseki stones and fire gel."

"Causing Wolfram's hand to burn," Yuuri said, thinking out loud.

"There are also holes in the shaft, drilled at an angle, so that the arrow makes a kind of whistling sound when fired."

"Why do that, Günter?" Yuuri scratched his head.

_Ah, our maou is so innocent! So pure in heart concerning the cruel world of combat._ He smiled a little at that, not realizing that he'd just verbalized what he'd intended to be internal dialogue. "Well, Heika, when such an arrow is fired, the whistling sound would be a warning to the enemy that the end is near."

The double black looked at him, feeling sick at heart. Suddenly, he could visualize the moment of impact—almost seeing, in his mind's eye, what Wolfram saw_. And, what was I doing when Wolfram was being shot with an arrow? I was sitting safe and sound behind a desk, feeling sorry for myself because I was bored._Then, a thought came to him. "So, if this happened so long ago, surely the Mazoku figured out a way to deal with this. Right?"

Yuuri looked up at Günter hopefully.

"Well, yes…they did." He squinted his eyes at the book. "It mentions here the antidote to the poison and the list of ingredients to make it. That part, alone, could counter the poisoning that.." He refrained from making a faux pas by calling the blond the "selfish loafer" as he usually did and continued with, "Lord von Bielefeld is suffering from."

"How long?" Anissina asked.

"Well, I know that Heika wants to have Wolfram back immediately. However, that's not possible."

"Why?" Anissina asked.

Günter turned up his nose a little at her bossy tone and said with a slight pout, "We'll have to make the antidote and pray that it works. At best, it will take three days…if we start now. After that, the wound in his side will have to heal. Until then, he'll have to stay like this or else..." He gestured to Wolfram's pale body.

"That's really good," Yuuri said with relief. He knelt down and stared at his best friend, eyes shining_. I'll have him back again. He'll be driving me crazy—following me around all day—but I'll have him back!_

"But, I've saved the best part for last," Günter said with a spreading smile.

"Oh?" the other two said in unison.

"There's one plant that is mentioned on the list of ingredients that we don't have here."

"How can that be good?" Yuuri said incredulously. Suddenly, he saw himself on another trek across the unknown trying to find some plant growing in an obscure place.

"But, there is a garden variety of it," Günter said smugly, clearly enjoying the maou's undivided attention, "that we do have and should work quite nicely. I believe it's called 'Beautiful Wolfram.' I understand that it's quite a lovely, but highly invasive, little yellow flower."

Yurri grinned broadly down at Wolfram's sleeping form. "I'm going to go pick the biggest bunch of flowers you've ever seen, Wolf! And you'd better accept this bouquet. Hear me?"

Günter raised an amused eyebrow. "Well, he won't be exactly sniffing it," the man said and closed his dusty book. "Actually, the way we have to administer the antidote can be quite interesting…"

"Really?" Anissina said, wanting to know more.

"He won't be gulping it down," Günter said smugly, "because the poison already in his system causes nausea and vomiting."

"Oh, you don't mean he'll have to have it…"

"I don't wanna know," Yuuri interrupted, suddenly tugging uncomfortably at his collar. "And, now that I think more about it, it's time for us to go, Günter." He took the man by the forearm and led him away with Anissina standing in the doorway shouting, "If you need help administering the antidote, I can probably come up with a machine for that!"

* * *

At dinner, Greta noticed that the adults were quiet—a little too quiet. They ate their food without really noticing each other. There was very little small talk, too, besides the occasional request for someone to pass the salt. Greta looked over to Yuuri and saw that the chair next to him was empty.

"When will Wolfram get better?" she asked, looking to Yuuri for an answer.

At the moment, he was trying to put a bite of something that looked like a pan-fried mini purple star fruit into his mouth with a spork. He stopped in mid-bite.

"Oh, well… We're working on it," he said reassuringly. Yuuri made eye contact with everyone else in the room, silently telling them to support what he'd just said with the same enthusiasm because he didn't want his ten year old upset.

With faux smiles, everyone around the table suddenly brightened. Even Gwendal made an effort to look cautiously optimistic. He forced a small smile onto his face and noticed Greta relaxing in her chair at that.

"And, you know, I even picked Wolfram some flowers today, too," Yuuri said, putting the bite of food in his mouth, choking on it because it tasted much too sour, and gulping down water from his goblet.

Greta laughed at that. "Yes…We love him, don't we?" she said with a grin.

Everyone at the table gave Yuuri a look—which made him want to crawl under the nearest rock. Cecile's smile dimmed slightly, then quickly brightened. As the former 26th Maou of Shin Makoku, she'd learned to do that in awkward situations like these. Gwendal's eyes widened a little but he held fast to his stoic nature. He found himself drawing on all of his skills as an administrator and negotiator to pull it off and not reveal what he truly felt. Conrad had his thin, mysterious smile which quickly faded when his thoughts drifted elsewhere. And Günter struggled with his face to keep the pained look away. It didn't work.

"You know," Yuuri said while sighing dejectedly at his plate of food, "I think I'm going to check on Wolfram right now." He grabbed a roll off the table as he strode out of the room. He felt a little guilty for using his best friend as an excuse for leaving his horrible meal and the equally horrible looks he was getting, but it was well worth it. He took a bite of the roll and thought, _Soon, this will all be over. But I want to know who did this to Wolf and why._

Tossing the rest of the roll in his mouth boyishly, Yuuri went down a flight of stone steps and took a left into Anissina's musty lab. Wolfram was still lying in his soothing, cool mist with eyes closed.

"Hello again."

Yuuri leaned in and blew a little of the floating mist away from Wolfram's face. Now, he noticed the thick, blond eyelashes. "I can see you better," he said. "I just came back to find out how you're doing." Some part of Yuuri missed the emerald eyes that seemed to burn with a green fire.

"Oi, bishōnen," Yuuri said quietly, kneeling down. "I'm expecting you to get better soon. Greta and the others missed you at dinner." _And I did, too, actually…_

Anissina walked back casually from the far corner of her lab with a warm cup of tea in her hands. "Hello," she said with a faint smile, "can I do something for you?"

Yuuri's eyes widened. "Oh, it's nothing." He laughed unconvincingly with a hand behind his head.

She raised an eyebrow. "Of course," she said just before taking a sip, "but if I didn't know any better, I'd say that you came to see him again because you...were thinking _about him_." She said the last two words sweetly—too sweetly.

Yuuri grimaced at her and stood up. "We're all concerned," he caught himself grumbling.

"I agree. That's why I skipped out on dinner."

_Gee, I wish I had…_That star fruit stuff was starting to churn a little in his stomach. At least, that's what he thought it was.

"So, there's nothing to imply," he said flatly, trying to put a straight face on. But some part was tempted to give her the kind of look that he would give his older brother for stepping over the line. Luckily, Yuuri had more self control than he thought.

"I agree," she said again smoothly.

With that, Yuuri strode out of the room with a huffy attitude—marching awkwardly up the stairs like a rusty tin soldier.

At the top, a red ball bounced into him.

"Eh? Greta?" he said, taking the round plaything in his hands and giving it a quick spin.

"Yes?" she called from the opposite end of the hallway.

"It's getting late. If you want a story, you'd better be getting ready for bed right now."

"A story? Great!" Greta yelled while running up to him and taking the ball back in her chubby little hands. "And I know just the one I want, too. I got it from our library! It's called _Anissina's Liberation of Bad-Omen Birds from the Land of BBQ Grills_." The little princess smiled back at him knowingly when his face fell at the very thought of reading another weird story written by Anissina.

* * *

An hour later, Yuuri made it to his room, closed the door behind him, and started getting ready for bed. "What was that I just read Greta?" he mumbled absently as he went through his things. Already, the thin details of the plot were slipping away from his memory.

"I've had enough," he mumbled to no one. "I'm calling it quits. I just wanna sleep."

He found the blue, drawstring bottoms and put them on. With a dejected sigh, he started buttoning up the top. Dressed in his pajamas, he walked over to the ridiculously large four poster bed. He collapsed in the middle of it, spread eagle, and stared up.

"This day was awful." He finished with another sigh. "I'm so glad that there's no way to relive it." He had a mental image of Wolfram bleeding in his arms. There was nothing he could do and no way to comfort him. In the end, the pain was so bad that Wolfram was trying to use his own healing magic to block the agony that was torturing him.

"Healing magic to block pain… Why didn't I think of doing that?" he asked no one.

Then, the image in his head changed. An angel in the clouds. Wolfram was getting the help that he needed. He wasn't in pain. Wolfram didn't die in his arms—Yuuri's worst fear. Now, to his relief, they had a plan on how to help him. Everyone seemed to feel that Wolfram would make a full recovery if all went well. Yes, it was going to be okay.

_And it will be okay. I'll keep telling myself that until it comes true._

Yuuri took a deep breath and let it out slowly before climbing under the covers. Using some of the magical techniques that Günter had taught him, Yuuri made a sweeping motion and all of the candles in the room flickered brightly and went out. He smirked a little at the success. Now, he didn't have to be in full "Maou Mode" in order to use his talents. It felt good.

What didn't feel good, though, was the silence in the room. The moonlight came in through the window with its blue-grey haze. And the shadows shifted in the room a little when Yuuri wasn't watching them. But, never before had he noticed exactly how big the bed actually was. It felt like he could roll on top of the mattress forever and not find the other side. It suddenly dawned on him that he was used to a certain blond coming in wearing a pinkish nightgown, complaining about what he did (or didn't do), and then falling asleep—kicking him over and over throughout the night.

_But, now_, Yuuri chuckled at the thought, _if Wolfram, in his sleep, actually tried to cuddle_… That would be some really bad news. He'd probably get nastier bruises than normal by morning.

_Wait! What? I can't cuddle Wolfrom! We're both guys. This is just so wrong…_

Yuuri frowned at himself. There was no way he could be attracted to a guy—even one with soft, blond hair and green eyes. True, Wolfram had a slender body like a girl. And both men and women in the castle looked at him. Yuuri frowned at the thought. Yes, they watched him in ways that were more than just "friendly." Yuuri shook his head hard. But, he certainly wasn't one of them! He gave himself a mental slap.

_We are friends! We are best friends! And I can trust him with anything really important. But, I can't fall for someone like that…who is…a guy…even if I know…deep down…he cares about me. Loves me._

The teen shook his head hard_. I'm just concerned for him right now. That's all it is._

Yuuri worried about himself, his sudden "concerns,"and his "non-feelings," for the next hour—tossing and turning in the bed. He looked up, putting a folded arm behind his head to prop it up. Then, his eyes drifted over to the vacant pillow beside him.

Yuuri begrudgingly admitted to himself that he also missed the feel of the body that was usually next to him. There was a subtle warmth that was reassuring. For, in recent months, Wolfram had made it very clear that he never intended to be away from Yuuri's side. Yes, together. And this was the way their lives were to be…until the end of their days. Yuuri shook that image out of his head, too. He actually pictured them together that long. Was Wolfram really his ball and chain? No, he was a _pest_. Maybe. Sort of. Come to think of it, was the blond really a problem after all…? Some prideful part of himself quickly answered "yes," but his soul didn't know, and his heart refused to tell him.

Yuuri tossed and turned again.

"Ugh! I can't sleep. Too much went on today."

_No that's not entirely true_, Yuuri told himself. _This bed isn't right. It's not right at all._

Yuuri knew what he had to do. He tried to delay it. He sat up with his knees bent and his arms wrapped around them. He put his head down. _No, I'm just delaying it,_ the double black thought, _just because I'm uncomfortable with it. But I know what I want._

With a deep sigh, Yuuri got up and walked back over to the closet. _I can't believe I'm doing this._ He took out Wolfram's pink nightgown and trudged back to the bed with it. Folding the frilly nightgown into a tight square, he put it under his head in place of the goose down pillow. Immediately, Yuuri smelled what he could only describe as "summer." It was the soft scent of sunflowers and jasmine. It was warm and familiar.

It was Wolfram.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"See, Greta?" Yuuri said gently, pointing down at Wolfram. "We're helping him get better. We're doing all we can."

"Hm," she said back to him with a determined look on her face. Yes, Wolfram was going to get better. She could see it for herself.

"And, he'll be more than happy to spend time with you once he's better," Anissina chimed in, repositioning a tarp over the large machine that she'd stashed in the corner. The blue tarp had slipped a little, which made her suddenly very nervous. She had hoped that the other two had not noticed. Anissina reached up to push the material higher and the whole tarp suddenly fell down and landed on the floor.

Yuuri looked over at her and his eyes bulged.

"Wait! Wait!" he said, staring at her as though she'd gone mad. "What is that thing doing here?" He noticed the slightly guilty look on her face that was now being covered up by a wolfish grin. "That!" Yuuri pointed to the ornately designed gold machine that looked to him like a green loveseat that had been fused with a satellite dish with levers attached and a bowl shaped impression in the front.

"What? This?" She blinked back innocently. "I just thought I'd borrow 'The Dry Wind' for a few weeks."

"Didn't Günter call that 'the forbidden magical device?'" Yuuri said with growing alarm.

"Well…yes…"

"Wolfram and I have been in that thing. Don't you remember? It's not just a fancy chariot or something. It makes you see the future—and a 'fearful' future at that!"

Anissina lost her grin.

_Fearful. How much more fearful can anything be than this?_

"Fearful…future," he said again, but lamely this time.

The words had barely left him when he felt his heart ache a little. Yuuri's eyes were now downcast and his face in shadow when he added, "At least…well…based on what Wolfram saw..." He laughed to himself but it came out as nothing more than a huffing sound. "I thought he'd kill me for handing out flowers to pretty girls." He cast a side long glance down to Wolfram. "But, you're the one who got those yellow flowers I picked. Okay?" he said. "So, don't complain."

Anissina's smile returned at that. Yuuri saw and felt embarrassed, feeling his cheeks turning pink.

She decided to change the subject a little. "Now, really… Where's the harm in just seeing how the machine works? It really is best to gather information. And, I've been able to analyze some of its mechanisms, and I've made some interesting discoveries." She smoothed out her maroon and white dress a little with her hands.

"No thanks! That thing should go back into the treasure room and be locked up forever! Shut it away…well… as far away from the Demon Mirror as possible so that no one will be tempted to use either one," Yuuri fumed. He didn't like being impolite to an adult in front of Greta, but this just couldn't be said any other way.

"I understand," she said civilly and gave a thin smile back.

_Clunk_. There was an odd sound in the lab. It didn't feel right. This was followed by a kind of groaning of metal, as though something was trying move, but couldn't. Now, there was a new sound. Her smile faded when she heard the pumping machines on the oak table start to sputter and oscillate out of rhythm. On the floor, the lights in Wolfram's machine dimmed and the pearly mist began to dissipate.

"What's going…?" the double black demanded, eyes now worried.

He saw the figure inside the machine turn his blond head and the chest heaved.

"Anissina? He's not supposed to be able to move! What's going on?"

"Yuuri?" Greta said worriedly. She fidgeted with the large jewel on her white cape, but her eyes were pleading down at Wolfram.

"Hmmm," Anissina said authoritatively, approaching the table with veiled concern in her eyes. She adjusted the two small pumping machines and they hummed back to life. With her back to the maou and his daughter, she breathed a quick sigh of relief.

"I fixed it," she said, turning around to him with arms folded. "I think it just needed some minor adjustments." _And I'm sleeping in the lab tonight. I can't have this happening again_, she thought.

"Are you sure?" he asked, still uncomfortable with the thought of Wolfram being in jeopardy.

"Yes and Gisela should be here after lunch to continue with the healing treatments even though the antidote to the poison isn't complete just yet. But Günter told me at breakfast that he's working hard on it with her."

She saw that Yuuri's eyes were still fixed on Wolfram.

"And, in the meantime, I'll have the 'Dry Wind' returned to its home," she added just to change the subject.

He nodded absently, his mouth open slightly. Then, he turned his eyes to her. "Well," Yuuri said in a pout-ish voice, "as long as you do it."

The redhead brightened a little. "I suppose, that will give me more time to experiment on the rainbow obsidian arrowhead," she said, going to her desk and pulling out the plastic tray again. She took a pair of tongs, removed the arrowhead from its resting place in the tray, and held the stone up to the light. "They say that these stones can be used in machines, too. And, with rainbow obsidian being so rare…and this one is huge… Of course, I'll have to clean the poison off first without harming the natural, magical properties." She placed the stone on a small examination table next to her desk and went off to fetch her magnifying glasses.

"Well, Greta," Yuuri said, holding his daughter's hand, "I guess, it's time to say 'goodbye' to Wol-"

Both pumping machines died.

The lab grew strangely quiet with the sound of machines grinding to a halt. The two pumping machines on the oak table stopped and slowly eased themselves down. The glowing, blue liquid no longer flowed down the tube into Wolfram's machine. The gears on the wall all came to a sudden stop.

"Anissina?!" Yuuri yelled.

From the deathly quiet in the room, she already knew the situation. "NO!" Anissina cried, grabbing her skirts up high and running across the lab to Wolfram as quickly as she could.

"Anissina?! What's happening?!" Yuuri wailed, kneeling down and watching as the mist began to disappear.

"It stopped! It just stopped! I don't know why. Let me look!" She pulled off a panel on the left side of the machine with her fingernails, splitting two of them painfully, and began to rummage around—checking to see if there was anything amiss.

Inside the machine, Wolfram's body began to convulse. His thin frame began to shake uncontrollably, shifting violently in the machine. His blond head tossed from side to side.

"Anissina! Do something!" Yuuri shouted, staring down in disbelief.

"Wolfram!" Greta cried.

"Greta?" Yuuri said with urgency, "I need you to go and find Gisela as quickly as you can. Do it! Okay?"

The little girl shook her head "yes" bravely and ran off down the hallway with her arms pumping.

The double black took shaky breaths, trying desperately to calm himself. But it didn't work. He was in a controlled panic with Wolfram's body still shaking and, now, he noticed a thin drop of blood coming from his mouth.

"Wolfram, no!" he said, thrusting his hands into the machine. He forced the blond's head to be still long enough to see the damage. Wolf had bitten his lip and the blood was from that. Yuuri pulled his chin forward in the hopes that would keep his tongue from blocking his throat.

"Anissina, my hands should be numb and freezing in this thing, right?"

He got a vague "right" from the other side of the machine. She was working frantically to get everything running again. She checked the lines leading to it and discovered that there was no power.

Yuuri looked down now and saw more blood in the machine.

"He's bleeding from his side now!" Yuri called to her. "His wound has reopened!"

Inside the machine, Yuuri was seeing a sight that he felt would be burned into his memory for the rest of his days. He was doing his best to restrain Wolfram without harming him, but the body was shaking so hard, he didn't know how much pressure to put down on him. The blond angel was bleeding a small, thin line of blood from his mouth. But the head thrashed, sending droplets everywhere. And there was more blood oozing from his side into the cranberry lining of the machine. Red on red.

The blond body arched upwards.

"You've got to stop, Wolfram!" His eyes shined with tears. "Please…stop…_please_!"

The body arched again.

"Anissina, do something!" He ordered.

"I can't!"

He stared at her, wide eyed. _But, he'll die!_

"Wait, maybe I can!" She took off to the 'Dry Wind' and pulled out some black cables. "If we hook these up, we can use that machine as a generator for Wolfram's machine." She pulled the heavy black cables as fast as she could. "But, there may be problems. I don't know if this will…" She stopped a foot short of Wolfram.

"No! It's too short. The cables won't reach!" She blinked back tears.

Yuuri felt himself getting angry and desperate. The situation felt hopeless. He lowered his head and the room began to pick up with electricity. Blue sparks began to fly with a prevailing wind that swirled around him. Yuuri felt himself leaving and his hair lengthened—his face becoming stern but with the hints of a wicked smile.

"In the struggles that we must undergo, hope cannot be abandoned," he said dramatically, his deep voice echoing back.

Blue electricity filled the room.

Anissina's jaw dropped. She sat on the floor, almost rooted to the spot, her dress billowing.

"As the 27th Maou of Shin-Makoku, I, Shibuya Yuri, will honor my pledge to preserve that which is most precious." His sharply edged eyes looked from Anissina to Wolfrom. "My judgment for this one," he gestured toward the blond, "is…life."

Blue bolts of light shot from the palms of his hands and the kanji for "judgment" appeared on the stone wall beside the door.

He touched the side of Wolfram's machine and raised his opposite arm in the direction of the 'Dry Wind.' Streams of white energy danced throughout the room—making waves that passed from the Demon King to the Dry Wind. However, in the process, a sudden, stray bolt of energy passed through the rainbow obsidian arrowhead and changed color to a dark red by the time the beam of light hit the Dry Wind and then bounced back at Wolfram himself—hitting him in the chest.

Wolfram's body jolted and a thin tear streaked down the curve of his cheek.

The energy faded. Yuuri quickly transformed back into his fifteen year old "self" and collapsed onto the cool floor.

"Oh!" Anissina said, running to Yuuri's aid. She pushed him up into a seated position. Yuuri put a hand to his head. "What just happened?"

He didn't get an answer. Instead, he heard Anissina whisper horsely, "Wolfram?"

Yuuri followed her gaze into the machine, his heart pounding hard. And, once he saw the sleeping form inside, almost fully healed, it was impossible to take his eyes away.

"Wolf? Is…is that…you?"

Inside the machine, lying on his side, was a blond newborn baby with a grumpy, squished face and a flat little nose. He made slight gurgling sounds and blinked up at them innocently, a cold but chubby fist in his mouth.

Gisela and Greta stumbled into the room, both looking frantic.

"I heard I was needed," the green haired girl said, sounding out of breath. She'd brought her medicine kit with her—knowing, for the most part, it would be useless. But, she had to try something if Wolfram was in distress.

"I…I suppose you are," Yuuri said awkwardly, turning his face up to meet them. "Congratulate us. It's a boy."

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Eh???" Everyone at the door shouted.

They stood there with their mouths hanging open---some wider than others. Gwendal, Conrad, Cecile, Günter, Greta, and Gisela couldn't believe it. If it hadn't been for the fact that she'd seen it all happen for herself, Anissina would have had the same reaction. Instead, she smiled to herself with arms folded.

"Explain again!" Gwendal said, pinching the bridge of his nose to keep a headache from getting worse.

"It appears," Anissina said coolly, "that the machine that was keeping your brother in a suspended state was…" She hated to admit this part. "Well, it was starting to fail. I don't know why, but it was losing power. So, I…" Her voice drifted again and she felt the hard gaze of Gwendal upon her. "I had to find an alternate power source, so I tried to use…"

"The Dry Wind," Gwendal finished for her in an angry tone, "even though that accursed machine was supposed to be locked up in the treasure room!" He turned on her and said forcefully, "And we all agreed that it should be kept that way. Right?"

She nodded slowly.

"However," Anissina countered, "had I done that, he probably would not have made it."

_He would have died, you mean_, Gwendal thought tartly.

"But, the Demon King came to the rescue!" the redhead said with a cheerfulness that the situation, in Gwendal's opinion, didn't warrant. She pointed to the wall that marked the maou's judgment.

When Anissina began speaking, Cecile approached the coffin shaped machine as a woman would in a dream. Greta followed closely behind. Carefully, Cecile picked up the infant and held him to her ample bosom. Greta removed the jewel that held her cape together and offered up the white cape to be used as a blanket.

The crabby infant snuggled in, eyes scrunched up tight.

"That is Wolfram, right?" Greta asked, looking up.

"It is," Cecile and Conrad said in unison, amazed.

"Then, do we still need this?" Günter asked, holding up a honey colored bottle of thick liquid. "I finished it sooner than I thought I would. I was just bringing it over when this tragic situation began."

"Yes, we will. Oh, I'm so glad you did that," Gisela said with relief. She peered at the baby in Cecile's arms. "He seems pale and sickly. His side looks almost healed from the arrow wound. However…"

Everyone in the room stared at her.

"I don't know how much an infant dose is supposed to be." She looked back at the room with worried eyes. "And what if we overdose him by just a little bit and not even realize it? Over time…with enough doses… Well, it could be the same…result."

Everyone in the room knew what that result would be.

"We'll just have to try anyway," Günter said with a thin smile, "because we don't have any other choice."

"I agree," Yuuri said, leaning over to baby Wolfram and touching his cheek. "We'll do all that we can."

All that evening and into the next day, Newborn Wolfram cried ever two hours. He wanted food, to be burped, to be diapered, to be held, and to be fed again. He was crabby because the feeling of clothes on his skin and a diaper on his butt annoyed him to no end. He had a vague memory of being naked, warm, and held close with noises that filtered in from somewhere. But where he was now was too loud, too bright, and he wasn't swaddled tightly enough for his liking. So, he howled every chance he got.

After the second hour of Wolfram's behavior, Cecile sent her servants out to get a wet nurse and a night nanny for her newborn son. As the two women were brought in, under guard because Gwendal was worried about the possibility of more attempts on Wolfram's life, Conrad entered the study.

"I would like permission to take a couple of weeks off," he said to his brother.

Yuuri was in the room and nodded in his godfather's direction appreciatively. "I think that's a good idea," he said cheerfully while trying to decide which dotted line to sign on. The latest document put in front of him was written in confusing, legalistic rhetoric. "I think I'd like some time off, too, so that I can help with Wolfram."

_Translation: Let Gwendal run things while I go off and play baseball with Conrad, pick flowers with Greta, and look in on Wolfram occasionally,_ Gwendal though tartly.

He raised an eyebrow at the double black.

A thin, secretive smile played on Conrad's lips again.

"Okay, then, how about half days?" Yuuri said, trying to negotiate. "I am worried about Wolfram."

Gwendal could just see in his mind's eye how much that statement would have pleased his youngest brother. Of course, the Wolfram that he knew would, out of embarrassment, fold his arms and toss his head—looking away and pretending to pout because he had a problem with facing his feelings.

"Agreed," Gwendal said with gritted teeth.

"Good!" Yuuri practically cheered, followed by "So-I'd-best-be-going-now-goodbye!" He raced out of the room.

"And you?" the administrator said almost acidly.

"You've been telling me to take a little time off. And, I'd like to do it…to take care of Wolfram…just like I used to."

Gwendal gave him an understanding nod. "Agreed," he said with a sigh, albeit a sad one. It would have been nice if their mother treated Wolfram like a person instead of a doll. But, that was how their mother was. He often wondered of she was like that with Wolfram because they looked so much alike. For, based on what he recalled, she wasn't that way with Conrad.

* * *

Breakfast the next morning gave Yuuri a shock. He was looking for Greta, to tell her that it was time to eat, when he found her outside in the garden. She was eating breakfast already with Baby Wolfram sitting in a high chair and Conrad spoon feeding mashed up fruit into him. 

Wolfram, in just a few hours, had aged to what would have been, in human years, a 6 month old baby.

"Is that…Wolfram?" Yuuri asked incredulously. He couldn't take his eyes off the blond baby.

"Yes, Heika," Günter said while approaching the table to greet the maou. "And that makes medicating him so much harder than before. It's still a guess as to how much to give him. But it seems, Your Majesty, that as he recovers, his body ages back to normal. Well, that's the current theory."

Yuuri nodded at Günter with understanding and then his eyes drifted to Baby Wolfram, who blinked back at him innocently with dark, emerald green eyes.

"He's cute, though," Yuuri said, trying to tickle his chin.

The baby pulled back and made a swiping motion with his hand—as though to slap Yuuri away.

"Does a baby slapping you count as a proposal?" Greta asked Conrad.

"Hmm…good question," Conrad said with a smile.

Emerald eyes locked with black. He frowned at Yuuri, regarding him with suspicion. This stranger was someone he wasn't sure that he liked at all. Black hair. Black eyes. Black clothes. They were not like his mother's black clothes. Not at all. Baby Wolfram was wary and showed his displeasure openly, tightening his fists and leaning forward.

"Now," Conrad said, picking up his baby brother in his arms, "is that any way to treat your fiancé?" His voice was playful.

"Eh?" Yuuri blushed and tugged at the collar to his black school uniform.

"He's right, Yuuri!" Greta laughed. "And he's younger than I am!" She grinned widely and danced in a little circle like a fairy.

_Well, when you put it like that_, he thought nervously, _I'm not robbing the cradle. I'm robbing the womb. Not good… Definitely not good. _He grinned widely, a little too widely at that. _Wait! What am I thinking? I'm not getting married to him in the first place. I just want to ignore this engagement and hope that it goes away._

The blond baby, dressed in a dark blue shirt and short pants, kicked his legs as hard as he could. That was his way of telling his big brother that he wanted down on the grass. So, Conrad kindly obliged him.

"Excuse me, Heika. I need some tea," Günter said, ignoring the children now. He pouted as he left. He wasn't the center of attention, which annoyed him more than just a little.

"Okay, whatever," Yuuri said vaguely, watching the children play and blocking everything else out.

Chubby, dimpled knees moved forward with a little effort. The blond baby crawled away from them followed by Greta—who crawled likewise, laughing at him all the while.

Then, Yuuri watched his godfather's face for a second. There was a soft glow. "I suppose, it's nice to have Wolfram back…like this," Yuuri said cautiously. He knew about the brothers and their awkward, sometimes unpleasant, relationship.

"In a way, it's…wonderful," Conrad said, keeping an eye on the baby and Greta as they played in the grass. "I've forgotten how much…I miss him. Whether that's for good or ill, I don't know." He nudged the watering can next to him away his brown boot.

_And he's alive_, Yuuri thought with relief.

Greta found a white daisy with a green center. She picked it and twirled it in her fingers. Emerald eyes saw the pretty flower and wanted it. It was so white and so lovely. It almost floated in front of his eyes. He reached a pudgy hand out to snatch it away from the giant girl who held it out in front of him. Then, he almost toppled over. Being on all four's could be a problem. With effort, Baby Wolfram plopped his butt down and sat upright.

"Bah! Ba-ba-bah!" he commanded.

"Hee. Hee. Hee." She laughed back.

The laugh. It was a beautiful sound. The baby looked at her for a second and then went for the flower. White…spinning…his.

"Greta," Yuuri called out to her, "don't let the baby eat the daisy."

"Okay!" she said with a grin.

Günter, returned to the table with a cup of tea and gestured to the empty seat that Greta had vacated. Yuuri and Conrad nodded "yes."

Greta took the daisy and tickled the baby's chin. He laughed. He sprawled out with a high pitched laugh that Yuuri recognized. Over the years, he had not heard Wolfram laugh very often. But, when he did, it was a genuine, warm laugh that was memorable and a comfort.

She tickled his chin again. The baby laughed, sneezed, and set the lawn on fire.

"Wha-?!" Yuuri shouted, pointing a finger.

There were flames.

"Oh, I forgot to mention," Conrad said casually, picking up the watering can and walking over to the grass fire, "that Wolfram was an exceptionally gifted fire Mazoku from infancy." Water from the can poured down. Steaming, brown charred patches of grass sizzled slightly. "Because of that, I've had Wolfram moved into my quarters so that I can watch him more carefully. He frightened the night nanny around 3 AM by setting his teddy bear-bee on fire, and I've been up with Wolfram ever since."

Yuuri looked over to Günter who was calmly sipping his tea.

"Oh, yes. Wolfram is very talented in his use of magic," he smiled benignly and took another sip. Then, he said quietly, "It's a pity that he isn't as good with his social graces… or controlling his fiery temper of his."

"What was that?" Yuuri said sarcastically, raising a black eyebrow.

"_Nothing_, Heika. Nothing at all."

* * *

The four of them walked down the hallway leading to Conrad's quarters. Years ago, Conrad moved from the wing where the nobility resided so that he could be closer to his men. It was actually a wise decision. For, he was able to have informal meetings to discuss the issues that were at hand. The men also respected him for it. So, there was goodwill all around. 

"Hei-ka! Oh, Heika!" Cecile said in a sing-songy voice, coming from the opposite direction. She waved sweetly. "I've been looking all over for you. I thought you might be visiting with Conrad and..." Her eyes went to the blond baby. "Wolfie! My boy! You are so beautiful. Just like me—just like a little doll." She snatched the baby from Conrad's arms and held him against her bosom. Yuuri saw the glow in the blond baby's emerald eyes and a wide grin. It was the look of someone who was given the one thing he wanted most in this world. He held onto her clothes, clinging to her.

"Oh, no… Wolfie, this is a new dress. See how pretty it is? I just love red. But I can't have you drooling on it." She did a "no-no-no" gesture by wagging a finger at him. Politely, she peeled her son's fingers from her clothes and handed him back to Conrad like a sack of potatoes.

Yuuri saw the look. In that instant, Baby Wolfram's mouth turned down and his green eyes filled with tears. The child was turning blood red, which matched his mother's dress--which worried Yuuri, but no one else seemed to care. The expression on the infant's face shifted from 'angry' to 'hurt.' There was a long silence, including a long breath, followed by WAHHHHH!!!! The high pitched shriek that followed could have awakened the dead and probably, in Yuuri's opinion, had done so somewhere.

Smile fixed firmly in place, Cecile sweetly covered her hears with her hands and shouted, "Heika?! If you have the time, please see me in my quarters!" She hugged the maou to her ample bosom—which only made Baby Wolfram scream louder in protest—and then she disappeared down the hallway.

Watching her go, Wolfram had pearl-like tears sliding down his pale face. He sobbed uncontrollably, shaking his little body. Then, he leaned into Conrad with pathetic little gasps.

"Wolfram, I'm sorry," Yuuri said, rubbing the child's back. The sincere tone caught the child's ears. He turned to face him, still sobbing.

Yuuri had a flash of memory. He thought back to the time when the grey, swirling vortex opened behind him, and it seemed that he would not be able to travel between worlds anymore. If they didn't go back now, they'd be trapped in Shin Makoku ("True Demonic Kingdom") forever—never seeing his family ever again. Without hesitation, Wolfram urged him to go in his usual, bossy and arrogant way. The blond said, "Your family is waiting for you over there, are they not? Do you want to make your parents sad?" Yuuri could still remember the look on Wolfram's face when he finished with "My fiancé would not be so heartless."

_I'm letting you go. That's what he was saying._

Yuuri continued to rub Wolfram's back reassuringly. The child still had tears. Maybe, this was what Wolfram looked like when he was leaving through the vortex back to Earth. Yuuri didn't know because when Wolfram called out his name, wet with misery, Yuuri didn't have the strength to look back. Because, if he had…

_Wolfram, you're the only person I can't say "goodbye" to. Why is that?_

The blond baby held out his hands and Yuuri took him in his arms.

"That's interesting," Conrad said thoughtfully. He tilted his head sideways at the pair. "Usually, he'll only go to me, Gwendal, or mother."

Even in Yuuri's arms, Wolfram turned his blond baby head in the direction that his mother had left. And Yuuri's heart broke a little at that. _Wolfram's life lesson number one,_ he thought, _everyone that you love will leave you—eventually_. Yuuri sighed to himself. _Wolfram, I think I understand you a little better today._

"Gwendal," Conrad said, watching his brother approach.

"The reports?" his brother asked. "I'm still waiting for them."

"Yes… They're in my quarters. One moment." Conrad walked three doors down and went inside.

Wolfram saw his brother and brightened. In less than a second, Gwendal had scooped him up from Yuuri's arms and placed him on his own shoulders. The baby kicked his legs playfully. He was smiling now with one silver tear sliding down his face. For a second, the baby wondered how it got there. He had forgotten why he was crying in the first place. He decided it didn't matter, and, now, he had a great view of everything.

_I'd forgotten how much Gwendal likes cute things—including Wolfram._ Yuuri smiled at the thought.

Conrad came back with the reports. "I'll deliver them to your office. You seem," he smiled a little, "busy at the moment."

Gwendal gave a short nod. He tried to keep his usual stern composure, but the hint of a smile played at his lips and his posture was more relaxed.

"But, I have to warn you about a few things," Conrad began but didn't get the chance. Wolfram opened his mouth wide, sat up a little, and chomped viciously onto Gwendal's hair—chewing hard and sending drool down the right side of his brother's face.

"He's teething."

"Great," Gwendal muttered back.

Wolfram belched loudly, sending some spewed-up fruit down the side of Gwendal's face next in a horrid, sour-smelling stream.

"And he really should have been burped a little."

Gwendal stared daggers at Conrad. "Anything else?" he muttered angrily.

A loud, prolonged pooting sound came from Wolfram's diaper followed by a green fog out the right leg hole.

"And he needs to be changed."

"Conrad?"

"Yes?"

"I hate you."

Conrad smiled and walked off with Yuuri in tow. "I'm sure you do."

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

After a quick game of catch with Conrad, as he always did to think things over, Yuuri decided to face the music and see Cecile in her quarters. She had a large suite at the far end of the castle. It was heavily guarded on the outside, going back to the days when she was maou. No one thought to change the routine. And, Yuuri decided that it was all fine and good anyway. In fact, she could stay in there. The less he saw of her on a day to day basis, the better.

Both guards standing at the entrance stood a little straighter when they saw the maou approaching. His benign smile only made them more nervous, he noticed. And he wondered why.

The guard on the right turned and gave the door a quick knock. It was opened, almost immediately, by one of Cecile's ladies-in-waiting.

The soldiers gave each other the "He's in for it now" look. Yuuri saw it and sighed inwardly—feeling himself being sucked into Estrogen Land.

Yes, everything was pink, white, flowery, striped, and frilly. Even the couch had a little skirt attached to the bottom covered in lace. Compared to this, Wolfram's pink nightie wasn't so outrageous after all.

"Maou! How lovely to see you," the young lady said in a cutesy voice. She had red hair French braided down the back with little wisps of hair curling around her ears. She smiled at him, but her eyes showed a greater interest than just "subject and king." In the back of his mind, Yuuri could just see a murderous blond soldier brandishing a sword to his back screaming the word "cheater" at the top of his lungs.

"Actually…I'm here to see…"

"Oh! Heika!" Cecile said happily. "I thought I heard a knock at the door." She turned to the lady next to him and chided, but with eyes narrowing slightly, "Now, Emmaline, you can't keep him all to yourself! Next time, let me know the minute he arrives."

_There's going to be a next time?_ the double black worried.

"Yes, of course," Emmaline said, barely masking her disappointment. She curtsied and walked away.

"Let's get comfortable, shall we?" Cecile said, taking Yuuri's arm and leading him over to the couch in front of the fireplace. There was a small fire burning and the flames were producing little sparks of color: red, blue, and green. Yuuri seemed mesmerized by it. He'd never seen a magical flame like that one—small but pretty.

He sat down on the couch and, just as quickly, Cecile sat next to him. Her black dress falling away, thanks to the thigh high cut of the dress, revealing her silky legs. She crossed them and scooted closer to Yuuri. He found himself wanting to tug at his collar nervously again but couldn't because Cecile had wrapped one arm around his shoulders and had her palm against his face.

Yuuri could hear, once again, a certain blond's voice saying in embarrassed tones, "Mother!" It suddenly occurred to Yuuri that the rude and often explosive comments that Wolfram made to just about everyone were never said to her. He smiled a little at that.

Cecile saw him smiling and got the wrong idea.

She snuggled closer. "I was thinking, Heika, that it might be a good idea to look into something…."

"Oh?" Yuuri felt confused. What "something" was she talking about?

"You know," she said and stroked a long, red fingernail against his cheek. "It might be a good idea to send someone out to investigate who attacked my sweet Wolfie." She smiled at him broadly. "If we don't, this kind of thing could happen to anybody."

"Oh, I see," Yuuri said diplomatically_. So, she's much more worried about Wolfram than I thought. That's nice to know._ "Well, Conrad and Gwendal have already sent Yozak to do some investigating. He's been gone awhile now." In his mind, Yuuri could only imagine the strange clothes that the spy must have on by now. Maybe, he was an old man on the road. Then again, he could also be dressed as a very tall, and oddly muscular, woman. But with his beautiful face, orange hair, and blue eyes, Yozak was able to find a way to be easily accepted as either gender even though his voice really sounded better when he was being a man.

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Cecile said, pulling away and clapping her hands together.

"But, there is one thing that we do know," Yuuri said hesitantly. He wasn't sure if this was something that she needed to know right now. Then again, maybe any piece of information would keep her off of his back for awhile. "When we started tracking the men…who attacked Wolfram and his soldiers…they were heading away from here and going to…"

Her smile wavered only a little bit. He squirmed inwardly at that.

"Yes?"

"The Bielefeld lands and holdings."

She blinked at him in surprise.

Yuuri took a breath. "Do you know of anyone…who would…want to hurt Wolfram?" The double black hated questioning her, but he felt he needed to hear answers—if she had any. "Before Wolfram…ummm…" No, Yuuri wouldn't get graphic about him bleeding in his arms. "Before Wolfram passed out, he told me that he was the only one targeted by the painted arrow."

Cecile paled a little at that. Yuuri suddenly realized that this was one tidbit of news that her other two sons probably "forgot" to tell her. Once again, he'd said too much. He cringed inwardly.

"Targeted? He was the only one they were aiming for?"

Yuuri looked down at the ground and nodded. There was nothing more he could say.

* * *

With all of the duties Yuuri was obliged to do and keep track of, including the annual inspection of the training of the troops lead by Conrad and recorded for all posterity by Günter (even though he suspected the man just made up the story about having the event recorded so that he could spend time with him again), Yuuri didn't get to see Wolfram for two solid days. Greta said that he'd been growing again, and Yuuri didn't doubt that. In fact, Conrad had been putting him to bed in nightgowns that were way too big so that they'd fit him when he woke up the next day. Apparently, Wolfram did most of his growing in his sleep.

The skies were clear and the sun was starting to make its descent. Conrad had taken his little blond brother to the practice field after all of the soldiers had finished their training for the day. He'd promised that they would go together. And Conrad always kept his promises to his little brother.

Today, Wolfram was dressed in a children's version of a dark blue soldier's uniform. He had a flashy, red sash that went from shoulder to hip. And, best of all, he had a little wooden sword to play with. He loved the sword.

Greta sat on the grass several feet away because Conrad told her to. Apparently, Wolfram's swings could be wild at times, and he didn't always have the best grip on the sword. Greta glanced up occasionally while making a crown of flowers for herself to wear.

After searching around the castle and, finally, getting word from Gwendal that Conrad had taken little Wolfram out to practice, Yuuri decided to join them. Walking towards the group, he noticed what looked like a blond cherub in dark clothes running around and shouting with his sword raised high. Yuuri had prepared himself for it, but it still surprised him to see that Wolfram was now looking like a human child around age three. His blond hair had a lovely curl to it which framed his face. The green eyes held mischief.

"Oi! Little Big Brother!" he called out loudly. "Look!" He swung the sword. "I'm a soldier! I'm a soldier!"

He swung the sword again but almost lost his hold on it. His side hurt with a fuzzy, burning pain. Wolfram wanted that to stop. The child put a hand to it—trying to press back the feeling, if he could. He shook his head "no." If he told anybody now that he felt bad, he'd have to go inside and take more medicine—maybe. Or, worse yet, he'd have to go to bed which meant taking his bath early. Bad. So, Wolfram decided to pretend it didn't bother him.

He swung the sword again, but not so wildly this time. "Soldier!"

"Not like that, Wolfram," Conrad said patiently. He kneeled behind his little brother and placed his hand on top of the child's.

Yuuri stood next to Greta with arms folded. She was wearing her crown of daisies now.

Yuuri laughed inwardly. How many times had Conrad done that to him in the beginning when he was teaching the art of swordsmanship? Now, Yuuri could see that same embarrassment mixed with frustration (with not getting it right the first time) on young Wolfram's face.

The child looked behind him, at his brother, with dark green eyes. His pouty lips stuck out.

"Do you want to be a _real_ soldier someday?" Conrad raised an eyebrow with the question. He knew that his brother would take it seriously.

"Yes," he came back with an equally pouty voice to match the expression.

"Then, keep your wrist from twisting like that."

They made a long, slow stroke together with the wooden sword.

"That looks much better."

The blond smiled at him and it was like sunshine. Conrad smiled back—a genuine smile, not one of his usual, practiced smiles that came from living the life of a noble.

"Oi, Little Big Brother?" Wolfram said, looking directly at Yuuri and motioning at him with the sword, "Who is that?"

"Never point with the sword," Conrad said seriously, "even a wooden one."

Wolfram gave him a wide-eyed look with his mouth making a little "o" and he nodded immediately. The tone told him he'd messed up. Bad. He would remember that and would never do it again. Perfect. He had to be perfect.

Conrad put a big brotherly arm on Wolfram's shoulder and led him forward. "Wolfram, this is Yuuri. Mother isn't the maou anymore. He is."

"Really?" the blond said excitedly. "Then, Mother's not so busy anymore?" He looked up at Conrad hoping the answer would be "yes."

"Well…in a way," Conrad said vaguely.

"Then, can I see her?"

"I think she's busy right now." He repressed a sigh. "So, Wolfram… Greet the new maou." He took the wooden sword from his brother, just to play it safe.

Yuuri was surprised to see the little blond boy taking steps toward him so stiffly. Green eyes looked up. Then, he gave a polite bow. "Greetings. My name is Wolfram von Bielefeld and I am the third son of Cecilie von Spitzberg. It is my extreme pleasure to meet your acquaintance."

Yuuri blinked owlishly at him. This was not the kind of thing a child this young should be able to say. Then, how? Why? Then, he realized it. Everything young Wolfram had just uttered was scripted. His tutors probably told him what to say and how to greet royalty. Already, he was learning the rules of etiquette and protocol.

Yuuri laughed nervously because green eyes were staring up at him expectantly. A pregnant pause followed. Time ticked on. Crickets chirped. The green eyes still watched. In fact, it was a look that Wolfram had given him many times over the years.

"You're not very bright, are you?" Wolfram said frankly.

"Eh?"

"Wolfram, that's not very nice," his brother said into his ear.

Greta giggled into her palm.

"But, Little Big Brother, he is! He didn't tell me what a smart boy I am. He didn't tell me that I look cute, like Mother. He didn't even tell me his name." The child picked his nose with his little finger and examined the crusty boogie before flicking it away. "You do know it, right? You're supposed to say your name when you meet someone." Wolfram approached Yuuri a few more steps and took his pinkie finger with a whole preschooler-sized fist. "You need to stay with me. I'll tell you what you need to know," he said in a bossy tone. "We're going back for milk and cookies. You'll like it."

Before he knew it, the double black was stumbling along behind. Amusement was clearly written on his face. "Well, I think you are a smart boy."

"Hmm?" the blond replied suspiciously, tossing his head and looking up.

"And you speak pretty well for someone your age."

"Can you guess how old I am?" he asked.

Yuuri thought about it. Definitely, in this realm, Wolfram wasn't a three year old preschooler. His vocabulary alone indicated that.

"I don't know," Yuuri answered honestly with a shrug.

"Mister, you don't know much." He stomped a little faster, leading the way. The double black couldn't help but laugh at him. This was definitely Wolfram taking charge, as he always did, when something needed to be done—like deciding when it was time for a cookie break.

In the rose garden, Wolfram pointed to the table. Yuuri, Conrad, and Greta took their seats.

"Cookie break!" Wolfram cheered, running in the direction of the kitchens. He returned a few minutes later in triumph, a cook behind him arriving with a large plate of honey almond cookies and another woman coming along with a tray that had glasses of milk.

Wolfram winked at Yuuri as if to say, _This is how it's done._

The blond boy turned to the ladies. "It was so kind of you to bring this to us," Wolfram said, green eyes twinkling.

"Isn't he the most adorable child?" the woman said to the cook. "He's just so polite."

Wolfram took his seat like a good boy, watching the women go. He had a devilish grin on his face, though, and was beaming with pride. Not only had he gotten his way, but he'd gotten complements to boot.

Yuuri suppressed a smile and bit into a cookie. This was Wolfram "the charmer"—one hundred percent—when he wanted to be.

"Oh, Wolfie!" The voice called from a distance.

Wolfram's head snapped up. He turned, wide eyed, behind him.

"Oh, W-o-l-f-i-e…dearest!"

"Mother?" the blond child said with hope in his voice. He had a smile on his face and he'd half turned in his seat until he felt the fuzzy, pain return in his side. The deep, burning sensation was really getting to him.

Yuuri took another bite of his cookie—his eyes drifting from Wolfram's hopeful profile to that of his mother's swiftly approaching figure. She had a lot of colorful things draped over her left arm.

"I've got something for you," she called.

"Really?" he shouted, ignoring how bad he was feeling. "What?" He was grinning now.

"Yes!" she said, now three feet away from them. "It's clothes!"

Wolfram's face fell. "Clothes…" His voice was even and his mouth a thin line.

"Yes, my dear," she said.

Before Wolfram could say anything, she'd pulled him out of the chair, taken the cookie from his hand, and dropped it unceremoniously onto the plate. Cecile hugged Wolfram to her ample bosom, practically crushing his face in. When he was released from her grip, all the boy could do was look back helplessly. Then, before he could think, she removed the red sash and tugged off his blue jacket in front of everyone.

Wolfram shot a dark look at the ground.

"Oh, don't give me that," she chirped. "Let's see… Here's a red one! It has a cape that looks similar to Greta's and there's a jewel on it, too. I kept this one from when you were little."

"Little?" He turned his head slightly to the side when he spoke. "But, I don't understand," Wolfram said, not remembering what she was referring to.

"Don't be silly. I'm a mother, you know. I kept all of your baby clothes, sweetheart." She continued to rummage through the things she had, found a purple coat, and put it on him. The hemline dragged the ground.

"These 'baby clothes' are too big. How come?" His face showed confusion and Yuuri didn't know what to do. _How do you tell a child that he's grown up before?_ Yuuri took a nervous sip of milk.

Cecile, of course, continued without missing a beat. "But, you know, this yellow one is so nice. No, wait! The green one!" She pulled from the center of the pile of clothes that she had slung over her left arm. "Try this on."

"Mom?"

"Now," she said with a cheerful but determined tone, taking the coat off.

Wolfram gave in. He stood like the soldier that he wanted to be. But, he had his arms spread out wide. Quickly, she took off his white long sleeved shirt and tossed that on the chair as well.

Everyone could see Wolfram's bandaged side from where there arrow had been. Cecile probably forgot that it was there and stopped, eyes wide at it, and then continued on as though it didn't exist.

Wolfram's head was bowed, face flushed with embarrassment. The bandages bothered him and he could feel everyone's eyes on him. He was the only one like this. He knew it for some reason. And, being the only one with bandages bothered him. He felt miserable—lonely. Wolfram chewed on his lower lip as his mother shoved his arms through the sleeves of his green shirt.

"This fits very well," she said, lifting his chin. "Stand up straight. I need to see if this fits everywhere. Be a big boy. Stop fidgeting and don't frown back…" She rambled on in her usual sing-song way.

Wolfram sighed. There was no stopping her.

Yuuri suddenly thought back. How many times had Wolfram done that to him? He remembered the time, last month, when he was in a hurry and misbuttoned his black school uniform. Wolfram had caught him before he left the bedroom, and complained bitterly about being "careless" and a "wimp" --all the while he was rebuttoning the school jacket with thin, delicate fingers.

_Wolfram's Life Lesson Number Two,_ Yuuri thought, _to show someone that you truly care, seek them out and be bossy. Attention equals love._

The blond headed child looked up at his mother. She smiled at him happily and took his hand. "Let's go show everyone how pretty you are!" And, with clothes still in her arms, she tugged Wolfram behind her on quick little legs. Starting with the kitchens, Cecile paraded her son around the castle.

Yuuri took another bite of cookie and thought to himself, _That's the same thing Wolfram did to me when he wanted the cookie break in the first place. He just grabbed my hand and we took off. The look on her face just now was the same one that Wolfram had back then. _Yuuri sighed a little and put the half-eaten cookie down on his plate. For some reason, it didn't taste so good anymore.

* * *

"Okay, Wolfram," Yuuri said, leaning over in the direction of the blond child. The double black's baseball cap was perched on top of his head and he kept tossing the ball into his glove over and over with anticipation. "I'm going to throw the ball. It will pass close to you, and you are going to hit it with the bat." 

Wolfram, dressed in a baseball uniform that was complete with monogrammed hat and his name stitched on the back, eyed him suspiciously. "I hit the round thing with the stick thing?" It all sounded too simple. There had to be a trick to it somewhere to make the game fun. He just couldn't see it.

"Yes. Try that," Conrad said, putting his fist into his glove. "We'll try to catch the ball once you hit it."

Wolfram looked at the junior sized bat dully. How could any of this be fun in the first place? There was nothing to it. "I'd rather ride a horse," he called back from home plate. "Or, Little Big Brother, I want to play soldier again."

"Just give it a try," Conrad said. He noticed his little brother being stubborn again and added, "But, then again, it could be _too hard_ for you."

Yuuri gave Conrad a narrow look but got a secretive smile in return.

"It's not too hard!" the blond yelled. He clinched his fists around the bat. "What do you think I am? A wimp?"

Yuuri burst out laughing. It felt good to hear the word "wimp." He'd really missed it.

"Okay, I'll pitch the ball. Try to hit it," the double black said. "Give it a go." Then, he took a quick look at Conrad. He mumbled, "I'll pitch it easy to him. Don't worry."

"Ummm…Heika?"

"That's 'Yuuri.' You named me after all."

"Umm…yes…Yuuri…" Conrad said awkwardly as Yuuri pitched the ball. "Wolfram's pretty accurate with a sword…even now…strong, too…so, you might want to…"

There was a wooden crack of the bat with a white speeding object smacking squarely into Yuuri's crotch. With a squeak, the double black curled into a fetal position and landed on his side—eyes watering. He made little gurgling sounds.

"Oi, Yuuri! I like this game!" Wolfram yelled excitedly. He ran up to Yuuri and looked down at him in wonder. Then, he glanced up to Conrad and asked, "So, what is this called?" He pointed to Yuuri, still curled up.

_Foul balls_, he thought tartly.

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

When Wolfram heard that he was going to have his dinner early and alone in the dining room because he was a small child, he marched himself into Gwendal's office, threw a screaming fit, and set the curtains on fire.

One hour later, he was sitting happily on Gwendal's knee in the dining room, just as he had always done. Both sitting in the same chair, Wolfram made sure to perch himself on the same spot on Gwendal's knee so as not to annoy his big brother too much. Little did he know that he was cutting off Gwendal's circulation and the big brother was wondering how long it would take to get the feeling back in his toes.

Little Wolfram watched the room. It seemed that everyone around the table was waiting for someone. He wasn't sure who it was. Yes, waiting. No one was eating. The food was being placed on the table in large platters. The enticing smells reached his button nose.

"I'm hungry," Wolfram whined to no one in particular.

"Hush," Gwendal said. "You'll eat soon enough." 

"But, Mother's already here. So, why can't we?"

"I said 'hush' and I meant it."

The child looked at him doubtfully. He pouted. Nope, it didn't work on Gwendal this time. _Fine. Be that way._ This was a total and complete bore. He leaned back dejectedly against his big brother who quickly enough wrapped one protective arm around his shoulders and held him close. Wolfram smiled at that. Yes, his brother would growl at him, but he was kind, too. And Wolfram liked that. He kicked his stubby little feet at the table legs, making the table cloth flutter up. It was fun.

Within minutes, Yuuri and Greta entered, holding hands.

Everyone in the room turned to look. That's when Gwendal stood up, took the blond child by the shoulder, and steered him toward Yuri.

"Wolfram, this is Shibuya Yuuri. He's the new maou. Can you say hello to him?" he asked. The tone was stern. As crabby as he was from feeling hungry, Wolfram knew better than to fight it and get his big brother mad at him. Still…from looking at this stranger…

Yuuri smiled a little. _The medicine must be working because he looks much older. Now, I guess, he looks like a five year old on Earth._

For a second, emerald green eyes sparkled. They seemed to ask, "Are you flammable?" Then, he got a sharp nudge in the back. He dropped his gaze. No, he couldn't have fun…no fun at all. In a bored tone, he said, "Greetings. My name is Wolfram von Bielefeld and I am the third son of Cecilie von Spitzberg. It is my extreme pleasure to meet your acquaintance."

This time, Yuuri was prepared for him. "Hello, Wolfram. You can call me Yuuri. We've met before."

The blond child looked up to his big brother and shook his head "no." "I don't remember that…or him," he said sincerely.

Yuuri laughed nervously. "Well, we did. And it was fun talking to you." The double black intentionally decided to avoid mentioning the little bit of baseball practice that they had. And, he made a mental note to always wear a cup when practicing with Wolfram.

"You remember me, huh? Well, of course," young Wolfram answered back, arms folded and flashing a slightly mischievous smile.

_It feels good to see that_, Yuuri thought. "Well, I'm glad you could join us for dinner." Then, he added, "You're looking older, too. Kind of a big boy, huh?"

"Well," Wolfram replied with a slightly pouty tone, "speaking of 'old'… I don't know why Gwendal and Weller look so old."

At the table, Cecile and Anissina snickered behind their napkins. Greta grinned openly and looked to see if Gwendal had developed another wrinkle on his forehead. Yuuri motioned for her to sit down in her seat. She did. Günter was also amused, but tried to hide it by taking a very long sip of water from his goblet. Gwendal tried to ignore the comment. It was the best that he could do under the circumstances and his brother was still an adorable little child, after all. 

Taking Wolfram's shoulder again, he steered the boy back to his usual place at the table, next to Yuuri.

The only two people who didn't seem amused by this at all were Conrad and Yuuri. The double black noticed the sigh coming from his godfather. But, more importantly, he noticed the term was "Weller" instead of "brother." And, from judging by the cold stares that Wolfram threw in Conrad's direction, the rift between them had already taken place—in Wolfram's mind, at least. 

_Wolfram must hate him for being part human, _Yuuri thought. _Conrad and I have talked about it a few times... So, how will he treat me, I wonder?_

The double black took a sip from his goblet and thought about it. Right now, Wolfram was a boy who, in Yuuri's opinion, only lived in the present tense. He felt more than just a little sad about that, too, because nothing that he had done with Wolfram so far had become a memory. _I can spend time with you…be a part of your day…but it doesn't stay with you. And I'm getting a little tired of introducing myself each time you get older._ He frowned deeply at that.

"Excuse me... Can anyone find the salt? I can't seem to locate it," Günter asked in an overly dramatic way. He turned his head right and left. There was just too much food on the table.

"I know what's lost," Wolfram said offhandedly while putting a huge spoonful of something bright orange with noodles stuck in it on his plate, "I can't seem to find my room."

Cecile's smile dimmed a little at that. "Well, dear…you sort of…moved out of my…um…our quarters…a long time ago. So, I turned your old room into…"

"A sewing room for your dressmaker," Wolfram said tartly. He started to shovel food into his mouth without tasting it.

"You've been staying with me lately," Conrad said cautiously. It got him another hard stare from a pair of green eyes.

"I don't think so," Wolfram said with an edge in his voice. 

Wolfram took a breath and held it. The pain was back. This time, the blond child's side began to burn horribly. He pressed his palm against it and hoped that the feeling would go away soon. For some reason that he couldn't recall, he knew that he had been sick and needed to be medicated. The pain continued. It was killing his appetite. Wolfram pressed the place where the pain was and felt the fresh bandages through his clothes. _How did this happen to me?_ For the life of him, he didn't know what he did to deserve it. But, if he wanted to be a soldier someday, he'd have to get used to sucking it up and soldiering on.

"Well, you can stay with me and Greta," Yuuri offered. 

The voice snapped young Wolfram's mind to the conversation that was going on.

"Yes! Sometimes, I sleep with Yuuri and…" She caught Yuuri shaking his head "no" hard. "Oh, I see…right," she said. _I almost said "Yuuri and Wolfram." Oops…_

Wolfram saw them both looking slightly distressed. And there was something they weren't talking about—hiding. He could sense the bad acting job that they were doing. And, by the looks of the other adults at the table, they were going along with the lie as well—whatever it was. 

_Fine, if you can keep secrets, so can I_. He pressed his hand against his side a little harder.

Then, a thought occurred to him. Wolfram cocked his head, confused. "Who is Yuuri to you?" he asked the girl without an once of warmth in his voice. Clearly, her features were not Mazoku. They seemed human to him—a human, but a harmless one. The new maou seemed to be a half-breed. His features being part of one race and part of another. So, Wolfram had no idea what their connection could be.

"Yuuri is my father." She beamed at him, proud of her daddy. 

Yuuri felt a little embarrassed with all of the attention that suddenly went his way. He laughed and put a hand behind his head.

Again, the blond boy watched the faces of everyone at the table—including his mother's. They were fine with the Demon King's little human "princess." So, it would be for the best to accept it, as they did, and act accordingly. "Oh," Wolfram sighed, the wind taken out of his sails a bit. He was going to tease her a little for being too familiar with the new maou. "It must be nice to have a dad. You're lucky," he said and put another spoonful of orange goo into his mouth.

Conrad and Gwendal locked eyes across the table. Then, their gaze drifted to their mother. No one in the dining room said anything. It was an awkward, uncomfortable silence that lasted throughout the rest of the meal. The sound of sporks hitting the plates seemed to be deafening. And the goblets being refilled with a sloshing sound didn't make it any better.

Wolfram noticed it and was certain that this was all his fault, too. Maybe, just maybe, demanding to eat with them was a mistake in the first place. He leaned his elbow on the table and rested his head against his palm while slurping down a citrus colored noodle as loudly as he could. 

This meal sucked.

* * *

Footsteps echoed down the hallway. Conrad turned and walked down another corridor with rushed but even steps. He looked into open doorways. Still nothing. He continued on his way.

"Conrad?" Yuuri said, coming out of the library with Greta in tow. "Is there a problem?"

"Gwendal and I can't find Wolfram. It's probably nothing, Heika." Conrad tried to fold his arms casually, but the double black could see that his godfather was deeply worried.

"That's 'Yuuri.""

"Yes, of course…"

"We'll look, too!" Greta said excitedly, clasping her hands together. "I know all of his favorite places."

"Okay," Yuuri said and watched her skip down the hallway, happy to help.

"It may not be as easy as she thinks," Conrad replied, keeping his voice down in the hallway even though the two of them appeared to be alone. "When he was little, Wolfram had a thousand hiding places. And we really need him to go to bed now." He knew what Yuuri was going to ask next. He added, "Gwendal has offered to take him for now. We don't think he'll want to stay with Mother." Conrad's mouth was a thin line.

Yuuri nodded. "I'll help, too. We'll find him."

Conrad sighed as the two of them walked down the next hallway.

"Y-You don't think he ran away, do you?" Yuuri asked hesitantly even though it really was the kind of thing he'd do. 

"Maybe…I don't know," Conrad said. "Probably not."

Yuuri raised an eyebrow at this. It wasn't like his godfather to be so uncertain about things. Then again, for many years, Conrad had practically raised his baby brother. There was a bond between them, even if the blond didn't always accept it.

"Let's split up. You go to the east and I'll take the west."

They nodded and walked away from each other.

"Now…where would a five year old looking Wolfram go? But, on the inside, he's not five. But, he's still a kid…" Yuuri murmured to himself. He checked each room and closet that he came across. "Okay…there's the kitchens…" Yuuri poked his head in. There was nothing. Then, he noticed a tray of cookies left on the counter. They were the "Dark Side of the Moon" cookies that he liked—crunchy, vanilla wafer on one side and dark chocolate on the back. Oddly, brown and white crumbs were heading out of the kitchen—something the royal cook would never allow. Smirking to himself, Yuuri followed them. He took several steps, lost the trail when it turned a corner (thanks to a breezy hallway) and continued up a long flight of stairs. 

Almost immediately, Yuuri knew where he was going. He pushed back the heavy door. It groaned as it opened. Candles burned in the sconces. In the far part of Wolfram's art studio, the blond child was perched on a chair in front of an easel. On the chair next to him, there sat a handkerchief with four cookies and pieces of a broken "fifth" on it. Behind him, making a beautiful backdrop, the doors to the balcony were open and the waxing moon hung in the right corner.

"Heika?" Wolfram said, lifting his head.

"That's 'Yuuri.' You sound like your brother, Conrad, when you say 'Heika' to me." He approached casually, his hands in his pockets.

"Oh," the blond child said tiredly. "I sound like Weller, huh? I'll have to stop that. It's too human."

Yuuri moved around and saw that the canvas in front of him was still white, pristine.

"Were you going to paint?"

"I was…but…" He cast the cookies a short glance.

"Did you want a cookie break instead?" He leaned in further and smiled. He tried to see Wolfram's face. There seemed to be something wrong, but in the flickering candle light, it was hard to tell.

"I'm not hungry," the child said simply.

Yuuri said, standing closer him, "Is something bothering you?" _Like what was said at dinner tonight?_

_Wolfram's life lesson number three, _Yuuri thought_, don't tell people what's really bothering you. It makes them pity you._

"Actually…" Emerald green eyes regarded him for a second. _Can I trust you? But you're so human-looking._ Wolfram took a shaky breath and pressed his hand against his side—trying to make it look like he was casually leaning his hand on his hip instead. "I feel sick."

Yuuri's dark eyes widened a little. He went over to the chair and counted the number of cookies. "How many of these did you eat? I found you from the trail of crumbs you left in the hallway. You probably have a stomachache from all this."

"Zero. I thought I wanted to eat something, but…I really don't." _I guess…I can tell you. You're the king._ He tilted his head up at Yuuri and then lifted his shirt. "I hurt here." He pointed to the bandages. "It burns. And I'm tired, too." The child swayed a little on the seat.

"Wolfram?" Yuuri kneeled next to the chair. "How long have you been feeling bad?"

"Before dinner…I started feeling bad. Now, I feel…tired...really tired…and my body feels like it's burning."

Trying not to panic, he took Wolfram's hand. "You know, I think we need to pay a visit to Gisela and have her look at you." The boy stared back with a vague expression on his face. "Wolfram?" He shook his shoulder and the child's attention snapped back, as though he'd awakened from a daydream. "We're going, Wolfram," Yuuri said in a more forceful tone, his heart beating harder.

The double black took two steps and felt a weight pull him down. Looking back, he was shocked to see a blond body sprawled out on the floor.

"Wolfram!" he shouted.

The child tried to move, but it took effort. It was slow and he pushed himself up.

"I've been trying to leave here…for awhile," the blond child said, "but I'm just too tired to walk." He was drooling a little and he wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

Yuuri reached down. He scooped up Wolfram and held him close, leaving the art studio with quick strides. Yuuri didn't even bother to shut the door behind them. Sluggishly, the child's arms moved around his neck and the blond closed his eyes briefly when everything seemed to be moving away from him much too quickly.

"Yuuri?" came the small voice.

"Wha-? I mean, 'yes.' Sorry about that." He walked faster. Running might jostle the boy too much.

"Will you wait for me?" He question was barely above a whisper.

"Wait?"

"Will you wait for me…to grow up?" He buried his face against the double black.

"I don't understand," Yuuri returned, distracted. He needed help right now!

"I'm sorry I was bad at dinner tonight. When I grow up, I'll be a soldier. I'll protect you. And I'll make all the right decisions." The child held on to him. "I'll be perfect…for you."

"Wolfram? We're finding you help…right now," Yuuri said in a shaky voice as he stepped quickly down the stairs at a half-jog. It was when he felt Wolfram's small body relax in his arms that he had a sudden flashback to Wolfram doing that very same thing when he'd first gotten back, when the arrow was still inside of him. Yuuri shifted the child in his arms. A blond head was now resting against his chest and he supported the legs with the other arm.

_His skin looks yellow. Jaundice?_

"Wolfram? Talk to me, Wolfram!" His voice was shaking now.

Yuuri could feel his own legs moving swiftly down the hallway, the child cradled against his chest. It wasn't fast enough. 

His mind flashed back to another time when he was holding Wolfram. But, it wasn't this Wolfram—the child. It was _his Wolfram_, the fiancé who didn't look a day over age sixteen even though he was eighty-three right now.

The double black walked quickly down the next hallway. The child in his arms groaned.

The memory was hazy, but they were in search of a flowering herb—the minadia. He recalled that there was blowing snow. It was cold. Yes, he remembered the blinding cold and the thought that he'd never feel warm again. There was miasma in that frozen realm that created distrust in the minds it came in contact with. And, even though Wolfram was exposed to it, and distrusted his own brother, the blond did trust Yuuri—and vowed to protect him. But, Conrad and Yozak were overcome with the miasma's effects and began to battle with their swords. And there was an avalanche. Then, when all hope was lost, the Demon King within him came out. Of that, Yuuri was sure. Finally, when everything was over, he stood there with the blond in his arms. He had Wolfram back. They were back together. More than ever, he craved that feeling again.

But, now, it was slipping away with each step that he took.

"Gwendal! Conrad!" Yuuri called to them. He could see the brothers at the end of the hallway not far from Gisela's quarters. His voice startled them out of the deep conversation that they were having.

Then, they saw.

"Wolfram!" they both shouted as they ran forward. Their faces were terrified.

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Yozak found himself drinking warm beer in a run down tavern on the border of the Bielefeld territory and that of the human lands. He sat at a small table, facing the wall with his back to the room. His clothes were muddied over and he smelled vaguely like dung. No one bothered him.

Days before, Yozak started tracking nine horses from the area where Wolfram and his men had been attacked. It wasn't that hard for him, actually.

The spy could tell, from the way the hoof prints had been pressed into the soft earth, that the enemy horses had waited for a long time near the fork in the road. Then, when it seemed advantageous, they attacked. Yozak knelt down and touched the dirt. It seemed that one of the riders had either gotten off of his horse or had slid off when the horse reared—the angled boot prints telling him that. Then, when their task was done, they retreated with two of Wolfram's men, who were the closest and probably the swiftest based on the shape of the hoof prints, following in hot pursuit. There seemed to be a regrouping of Wolfram's men, too—probably deciding what to do next. And they, in turn, continued up the trail to complete their mission of patrolling the borders. A small handful of soldiers, worried about their commanding officer, headed back to the castle the way they'd come.

Not long after Yozak set out, he met up with Wolfram's two soldiers on their return journey. The men confirmed what had happened as well as the direction and the location of the human attackers.

The first, pointing back up the road, said with frustration, "We followed them for as long as we could. But, I'm certain that the humans were heading for the outskirts of the Bielfeld territory."

The second soldier agreed. "They're not taking the major roads. They're on the trails. And from the trails that they're on, I know that they're heading to a place that doesn't have much but two villages and a bunch of small taverns on both sides of the border."

Yozak nodded at them and sent Wolfram's men back to the castle as Yuuri requested. Yozak also knew that he'd have to do his own part now.

Dressed as an old man, Yozak wandered into the first village and searched it. Here, too, the earth was soft from the rains the previous week. And, one of the horses that he was tracking had a specific, diagonal ambling gait—footfall patterns that did not match the other horses. Yozak guessed that he was looking for eight horses of one breed and a single horse of another. When all of them traveled together, it stood out. And, the trails and back roads that they were taking weren't exactly widely traveled.

Then, the hoof prints began to mix with other marks—some left behind by wagons and people walking on foot. Yozak passed a graveyard and saw someone digging four graves with annoyed look on his face.

"Excuse me, son, but do you know where the local pub is?" Yozak called.

The young man with short, lilac hair put down his shovel, approached Yozak, and pointed east. "I'd suggest the Blue Boar. The food is fair and the beer actually has a head on it." The stranger smiled a little at that. Yozak could tell that this guy was probably good natured, not mean at all.

"My condolences," Yozak said, pointing to the young man's work. "Life is far, far too short sometimes."

The young man quirked a smile again. "Oh no… These four humans showed up at the clinic but died of their wounds shortly after. How they got there on their own, nobody knows. But I'm pretty sure someone dropped them off. As the gravedigger and his sons are ill, I volunteered to dig the graves before the priest arrived. I'm the healer's apprentice. He told me that this would be good training to accept that 'harvest' is a part of life."

_Four graves? Strangers to the village? Did some of them die while on the journey back?_

The spy gave a short nod, looking at the graves one last time. "The Blue Boar, you said?" Yozak replied with a nod. "Then I'll be off." _But, that 'priest' comment gives me an idea…_

Dressed as a brunette priest, Yozak entered the second village. Yes, the horse with the ambling gate was back. He could see the marks along with other horse tracks. This time, Yozak wanted to stand out. There was supposed to be a priest in the area anyway. So, when he drew attention to himself, he simply replied with, "I'm looking for followers. Care to join me on the road of life?" Every single time, he'd get a quirked eyebrow and a mumbled excuse that included "I'd better go now." Yozak liked this disguise and decided that he'd use it again someday.

This left the taverns on the border. Yozak sighed to himself. It looked like he'd have to visit _them all_ and drink beer. He smirked inwardly. _Oh, cruel fate!_ The things he 'had' to do in service to his king and country. This time, he pushed the door open and entered dressed as a farmer with horse dung clinging to his left boot.

* * *

"It's an overdose of the antidote," Gisela said simply, "just as we feared." She stroked some blond strands of hair away from Wolfram's closed eyes.

The boy was sleeping now. But, one hour previously, Gisela had to struggle to wake him. Then, the blond child spent the next thirty minutes vomiting into a basin and sobbing into Gwendal's shoulder that he "hated throwing up." He drooled uncontrollably and tears slid down his cheeks.

Yuuri felt helpless. He also noted, with disgust, that the orange noodley goo from dinner looked the same coming back up as it did going down. He'd tell the cook to never make it again.

Gisela managed to get a healing, herbal tea into him—which he, finally, kept down—and began more magical healing treatments on his injured side and stomach.

"That's all I can do for now," the green haired girl said with fatigue. "I'll have to rest for a few hours, but I'll be back in the morning." She looked at the three men. "I don't think it would be wise to give him more of the painted arrow antidote for at least a day. If he grows a little more, and seems to weaken again, we can start back up with the treatments."

Everyone nodded in agreement.

Gwendal pulled out a chair and sat down. "Well, as these are my quarters, I'll sit up with him all night."

Conrad nodded grimly. "I'll go tell Mother what happened." He cast one last glance back at Wolfram and then left the room looking worried.

Yuuri walked around to the opposite side of the bed and took the chair that went to Gwendal's desk. He sat in it.

"It's not necessary for you to stay up all night," Gwendal said almost gruffly. "I'll watch him."

Yuuri stared back in all seriousness to his administrator. "If things were reversed and I was the one lying there," he motioned to the sleeping figure on the bed, "what do you think Wolfram would do?"

Gwendal sighed impatiently, folded his arms, and leaned back in the chair. "My youngest brother is a fire Mazoku. He feels everything intensely, as most of that kind, with those magical skills, often do. His temper is quick. His mouth is loud. And his heart is…" Gwendal stopped himself. There was no point in going on.

"I know what his heart is," Yuuri said quietly, closing his eyes and tilting his chin toward the ceiling.

"Loyal," Gwendal finished with a nod.

Yuuri's dark eyes flew open at the word. _Yes, 'loyal' does describe him—even if he drives me crazy by following me around and calling me "cheater" and "wimp." Though, I think he just does that to remind me we are engaged. Nothing more._

Gwendal looked over to his youngest brother again. "And 'loyalty' can also be a curse." He took a shallow breath. He was going to say it. It was about time that someone did. "Maybe…Maybe, it would be kinder, in the long run, if you…called off the engagement."

Yuuri blinked at that. "Now's really not the time to discuss…"

"I could draw up the papers. You could sign them. It could all be done in a day."

"With him as he is now?" He motioned to the sleeping blond. Yuuri thought this was incredibly cruel. _Once my Wolfram comes back, he'll be furious._ _Wait… What did I just think? 'My Wolfram?' No… I'm just stressed. That's all._

"Consider it," Gwendal said quietly, "because Wolfram's station in life is lower than yours. And consider the duel that locked him into the engagement." His eyes narrowed. "It's not within his power—in terms of tradition and personal willpower—to end this" he coughed into his fist "entanglement."

With a scowl, Yuuri leaned back in the chair and folded his arms against his chest defensively. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Just as the sun was peeking over the horizon, Yuuri could feel someone. Without opening his eyes, he could sense a presence hovering in front of him. He had a vague feeling that it was his mother dressed in a frilly apron telling him that his breakfast of fish, natto, and steamed rice was getting cold at the table. _"And, Yuu-chan, breakfast is the most important meal of the day!"_ followed by a sparkling smile.

"Whoa, buddy. You _stink_," the voice taunted.

Still sleepy, the double black squinted. He was practically nose to nose with what looked like a giant, green eye. It actually turned out to be a green eyed eight year old.

"Whoa! Too close!" Yuuri said, jerking back and almost tumbling out of his chair.

"Good morning, Wolfram," Gwendal grumbled stiffly from his chair, looking mildly surprised at the growth. "Let me introduce you to the new maou. His name is Yuuri."

"He smells bad…like bear-bee paint," the child said loftily. "That stuff's made with _poop_, ya know." Wolfram dug his little finger into his right ear while sitting on the edge of the bed in a white nightgown, his legs swinging.

"Get back into bed, Wolfram," Gwendal ordered.

Without hesitation, the child did it. "You need a bath…_Maou_." The blond had his arms folded defensively against his chest now, and he had a disbelieving smile on his face. "Oh, I see you've got some paint on you." He pointed to the yellow smudge on Yuuri's sleeve. "You'll never get that out, though. I hope you have another jacket," he teased.

Yuuri looked at it, surprised that he hadn't noticed before. Of course, it had to have happened sometime when he was in the art studio last night.

Wolfram rolled his eyes. _What… an… idiot…_

"Really, Gwendal," Wolfram chatted boyishly, "who is this guy?" Head cocked to one side, he motioned towards Yuuri with his thumb. "And why do you look so…old?" He eyed his brother with a pinched up face.

"I was being totally truthful," Gwendal droned back, ignoring his brother's last comment. "Mother's not the maou anymore. He is." _Let's just get this part over with._

"Seriously?" Wolfram said, emerald eyes like saucers. The child got out of bed and began to pace a little. "So, what you're telling me is that I'm not a prince anymore?"

"You must be glad so that you can spend more time with your mother," Yuuri said, remembering what the three year old looking Wolfram was like. That child wanted to spend time with his mother so—_so badly_; it was painful for Yuuri to watch.

"Are you _kidding_ me?" Wolfram said back, sarcasm dripping. "Who wants to hang out with their mom?" He turned to Gwendal. "Please tell me that you are joking. This…this…idiot," he motioned to Yuuri, "cannot be our maou."

The child marched himself up to the double black and looked him up and down. "He doesn't look fierce at all. What will the other countries think?" He turned back to his brother. "You are an administrator…" Then, he glared at Yuuri. "He still is one, right?" Yuuri nodded, dumbstruck. "As I said, Gwendal, you are an administrator! We're going to appear weak on the battlefield with this guy leading the charge."

"I don't want wars," Yuuri interrupted. "So, we're just not going to have any." He finished with a shrug. This, Yuuri was certain, would satisfy any child. He'd certainly told Greta this enough times, and she would always hug his neck.

"Wait…" Green eyes narrowed in his direction. "I may not be big enough to become a soldier yet, but that doesn't mean that I haven't learned a thing or two from Gwendal or Günter." He began to pace again, now throwing his hands up in the air. "Haven't you ever studied our history? What kind of maou are you?"

Annoyed, Yuuri frowned back. "The kind who would rather have peace with the other countries and the humans…"

"W-h-a-t?" He glared with fists balled up at his sides. "Did you just hear that, Gwendal?" He turned back to the double black. "You're weak…We're doomed," the blond said, putting his hands over his eyes to block out the idiocy that was accosting his vision. The idiocy that was Yuuri. He began to pace again, arms limp at his sides now—defeated. "We're all going to die. That's it."

"Wolfram!" Yuuri said back sternly. Yuuri bit his lower lip to keep himself from saying more to his (way too young for him) fiancé. Arguing with Wolfram at this age was a new experience. In the past, the blond had never been this 'blunt' with him. Sure, Wolfram had been loud, fiery, and annoying—but he'd never gone into any great detail. Now, Yuuri realized, Wolfram had probably been thinking this whole line of reasoning but was too well mannered and too self-disciplined to say it this way. However, little "Wolfram," who was clearly much older than eight in Mazoku years, didn't have that kind of filter.

Green eyes narrowed into black ones. "You'll be the death of me someday."

Yuuri's memory shot back to what Wolfram said at the beginning. _"The eight of them had swords and only one had a bow and arrows. While the others were fighting—a distraction I think—I realized that the one with the arrows was aiming only for me. I could have roasted him with a fireball…but I hesitated…If I'd done as my instincts told me, I'd be fine right now." _

Yuuri blinked at the memory. _Because of me, and what I believe, you got shot with the arrow, _he thought sadly.

"For your own sake, you really need to calm down, Wolfram," Gwendal said evenly, trying to bring chaos to order. He could tell Yuuri was getting upset, too. And that wouldn't do anyone any good.

"Why would you say something as stupid as 'no wars' when you can't prevent them—even with the violent, stinking humans? Why?" The blond was thinking out loud at this point—a habit, Gwendal noticed, that was something Older Wolfram often did. "So…why? Why would…?" The blond stopped pacing and stared at Yuuri differently. His face literally changed and his emerald eyes had a dark spark in them.

"You're one of them, aren't you?" Wolfram breathed.

"What?" Yuuri said, confused. He didn't like the look on Wolfram's face. He didn't like it at all. It was something close to fear, aimed at him—no, _because_ of him. Yuuri reached out a hand and the blond boy stepped back, avoiding the touch.

"He's part human. Isn't that right, Gwendal?" Thunderstruck.

Gwendal coughed uncomfortably into his fist. He knew that this was coming. He just didn't expect it this morning considering how bad things were last night.

"Yes, Wolfram." It was short and to the point. His little brother needed to hear it.

"Our…new maou…is part….FILTHY HUMAN!" Wolfram screamed the last part with hands balled up into fists again. "And you didn't stop this?!"

"It was not my decision," Gwendal shot back, "or his." He motioned to Yuuri. "This is just how things happen to be."

A blond head shook "no" violently. "He won't be on our side!"

"I love our country," Yuuri proclaimed, trying to jump in where he could. "It will be okay, Wolfram." The double black couldn't understand why Wolfram was being like this. Usually, whenever he stood up for himself, Wolfram would give up—give in—and submit to his fiancé's view point. And even though the blond didn't always agree with his views, he would be the biggest supporter and advocate of getting the job done.

_But, now, why are things different? This is a struggle,_ the double black thought. _I can't even touch you. My Wolfram would love it if I…_ Yuuri shook the thought away.

"No! It won't be okay! It will _never_ be okay." He glared at Yuuri. "I won't accept this!"

"Look, Wolfram… I can see you're scared…" Yuuri began in a soothing tone.

Then, Yuuri raised his hands up in mock defense as the child bellowed into his face, "I DO NOT ACCEPT YOU!" Then, Yuuri remembered the first time he'd eaten dinner with Wolfram. Wolfram was a disbeliever back then, too, and questioned whether it was right for him to be the Demon King. Somehow, though, with Wolfram looking like an eight year old child wearing a white, girly nightie it really did make him seem less imposing than their original scene together with him in the military uniform.

"Calm down, Wolfram," Gwendal said, tossing back his dark grey hair. It was really too early in the morning for this. "He's been maou for quite awhile now. You just don't remember it."

"I can't believe this," Wolfram said. "And you heard him," he complained bitterly while pointing a finger at Yuuri, "say that there will be no wars. What's going to happen when the other countries hear about that? They'll attack us. We'll look weak!" He sent a scathing look in the double black's direction. "_Weak_ is bad, by the way."

"Well, for a child as young as you are," Yuuri observed, "you seem to know a lot about the military and politics. But, I know a lot about people. You need to give them a chance. Hear them out. Give it a try."

"Look, human," Wolfram growled, pulling himself up to his full height, "I'm going to be a soldier—better than Weller, too. And I'll have to go out there…and… and…" He ran out of steam but added, "_risk my life for you_." The last part was said under his breath, but Yuuri heard it.

The double black had another idea. "Ummm…Actually, I know Conrad and he trusts me. Gwendal, too. So…why… can't you?" Yuuri really hoped that this would work.

At first, the young face looked contemplative. He was really considering it. Then, a thought occurred to him. "Oh," Wolfram said, cocking his head to one side and studying Yuuri carefully. "I get it now… You're a half-breed like Weller and Yozak." He smirked. "That means…no magic…" For a second, the room seemed to go out of focus and Wolfram felt tired—really tired. But, he was furious again, too. They had tried to play on his sympathies because he was a kid. Well, now, he had something to prove. So, he chose to ignore the weird feeling. And he was damn well going to get his point across to these stupid adults who couldn't find their butts with both hands.

Gwendal shook his head and said, "Actually, there have been cases where such a child would have magic—strong magic—and …"

"And you expect me to believe that this," he gestured to Yuuri, "_maou_ has magic?" He raised an eyebrow. A crooked grin came to his face. He rubbed his hands together. "Then, let's find out."

Yuuri's dark eyes shot to Gwendal.

"I challenge you." Wolfram snapped his fingers and then stretched out his right palm wide. "Günter has been teaching me some things. And I'm an excellent student," the blond said darkly. Three marble-sized balls of flame appeared in the palm of his hand. They began to spin. Then, all three began to revolve like planets around a sun—that "sun" being Wolfram himself.

He giggled. It was funny. Everything was funny.

"Wolfram!" Gwendal barked.

At the name, unseeing emerald eyes turned back in his direction. Then, Wolfram collapsed onto the floor and singed the bedroom rug in three places.

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Five rough looking men sat at a single table in a bar on the "human" side of the border. They were cursing and swearing. Two of them were playing cards while the other three waited impatiently for their drinks. A middle aged barmaid, wearing a frock that was deeply cut in the front to show off her heart shaped mole, came up to them with five flat beers. The men grumbled, but took them.

Yozak, sitting one table away with his back to the gang and dressed as a middle class merchant, leaned so that he could hear what they were saying. Apparently, he'd struck gold. He knew that he'd have to send a homing pigeon back to the castle tomorrow morning to keep everyone informed.

"Well, that was a quick job. Too bad four of the guys didn't make it," the eldest said. "At least, that's what I heard." He had grey hair coming out of his ears that could easily be braided. "And all we had to do was stick it to that demon."

"It wasn't a 'stick.' It was an arrow," the stubble-faced one corrected. He seemed to be the boss and had a bigger mouth than he had brains. "And, I wish they'd have a lot more of those made up. But, we just can't get many." He leaned his short, thick body against the table as he took another swallow of beer.

"Why?" asked another, drawing a playing card from the pile with a filthy finger.

"It takes too long to make," the stubble man said with a shrug. "But, if we're lucky, we might get four more. Add that to the two that we have left over and that makes a total of six."

"Only six?" the other card player said, not wanting to be left out of the conversation.

"Afraid so," grumbled the fat nosed one with red freckles and hair to match. He picked at a zit on his cheek with a split fingernail as he stared at the stubble-faced man.

"Well, who will we be after this time?" the eldest asked.

"Shush! Keep your voice down. We don't want anybody else to hear about this. We've got a good little job here and it pays well. So, don't blow it." They all nodded at the stubble man. "Okay, if you must know… I found out that the 'pretty boy' Mazoku that we went after actually lived."

"No way!" both card players said at once.

"You mean 'Wolfram the Undesirable?" the fat nosed one said.

"Is that what they call him?" the eldest said.

"In the village outside of Blood Pledge Castle? Yeah." Fat nose seemed to know a lot.

"Yeah…well he is a pretty boy…I mean, we all saw him, right?" the second card player added. He got sour stares from the group and decided to focus on his cards instead. He shrugged back at them and said, "Sorry I spoke up."

"Shush! Too loud," his card playing companion warned, looking around to see if anybody heard.

"Yeah, almost a god in his looks alone. And he practically throws himself at that idiot maou. But, does the Demon King want him? Nope."

They all laughed at that.

"Poor blond beauty. No matter what he does, can't get the king's attention. Like a whore that nobody wants. So, he has to sneak in every night just to get into bed and go to sleep."

They laughed again.

"Better off dead," the eldest said.

"Keep your voices down," Stubble grouched.

"Sorry," they all both mouthed back.

"So, they're decidin' what to do next. But, they'll let us know. And what does that mean…?"

All of them said in unison, "More money!"

At his table, Yozak took a sip of his drink and cringed inwardly. '_Wolfram the Undesirable_,' he thought bitterly while swallowing_, I've heard that one around the village, too. But, I had hoped that word hadn't spread this far. But, in this case, I know that I have the right people. So the gossip mongers have actually done us a favor. _

Yozak got comfortable and ordered another flat beer from the busty barmaid. He was going to stick with these lowlife characters for as long as possible. And, if he was lucky, he'd stay in the same inn. But he was definitely going to have to send a message back to the castle _tonight_, now, because Wolfram wasn't safe and Yuuri needed to know it.

* * *

Yuuri pulled Anissina aside right before breakfast.

"Can I speak to you?" he asked. "It's…um…rather important." He looked down awkwardly. This was not a conversation that he was looking forward to.

"Of course," she said with a smile. She followed the maou into the library and he shut the door—looking around to make sure they were alone.

"There's something I was wondering…"

Anissina cocked her head to one side, studying him. Yuuri seemed to be gathering his thoughts and trying to say the right words. Maybe what he had to say would offend her? But, seeing him struggle like that made any message that he had to give more businesslike and less personal—kind of cute, too. Anissina smiled to herself.

"I was thinking…wondering… if you'd like to take the rainbow obsidian and travel to meet that alchemist that you talked about over lunch the other day."

Anissina's face brightened at the thought. She began to make all sorts of preparations in her head about what she'd take.

"I'd also like for you to take Günter with you."

Her face turned to mild surprise at the request.

"His family estate isn't far and you'd have a place to rest. He said that it's okay. So, there's no problem with staying with the von Christs." Yuuri's eyes drifted to the open window. He pulled back the curtain and leaned against the wall casually—looking out and then down at the small, blond figure chatting happily with three blue uniformed soldiers outside. Wolfram's face was glowing, his gestures animated. It was the first real smile that Yuuri'd seen on his face in a long time. A part of him felt pained… Was that the emotion? He wasn't sure. But, there was something that he was feeling about not being the one to make Wolfram smile. He sighed to himself. No, it was just concern—especially after reading the message that he got from Yozak early this morning. Gwendal and Conrad were equally upset, too.

Yuuri ran his fingers through his hair nervously.

"And, I'd also like you…to take…Greta with you."

Anissina's eyes widened at that. She walked quietly to the window and looked out, seeing what Yuuri saw. She glanced at the maou. Then, she realized it and smiled secretively.

"Just tell her it's an adventure. She'll love it." Yuuri sighed a little.

"If it's any consolation," Anissina said back to him, "I remember what Wolfram was like at this age. He will be difficult…and not just to you."

Yuuri turned to face her, a bit surprised. "So, you understand why I want Greta to have 'an adventure' for a little while?" he asked cautiously.

She nodded. "I think it's for the best, too."

There was a soft knock at the door. Yuuri went to answer it and found Greta on the other side—dressed in a frilly pink dress with yellow ballerina shoes and a white sunhat. "I'm all dressed up for breakfast!" she said.

Yuuri beamed. "You look great."

"Well, then," Anissina said, feeling quite pleased with herself, "have I got some news for you. You, me, and Günter have got a mission!"

"Really?" the girl said. "We get to help Daddy?"

"Yes, and that means that we have to leave right away to learn as much as we can about that arrow that hurt Wolfram."

"Just us girls?" Greta asked, feeling hopeful.

The red headed lady scratched her head a little. "Well, considering that Günter is coming, too…"

"Well, Günter is practically a girl," Greta said back.

"Yes, we'll consider him a girl, and he should be proud that we give him that honor." And, with that, Anissina took Greta's hand and led her over to the dining room for breakfast.

* * *

Out in the rose garden, young Wolfram was sitting at a table with a cup of juice and a plate of ham and eggs. He didn't want to eat with everyone else, and they seemed to be fine with that. He rolled his eyes.

"Heika!" Günter said, catching up to Yuuri and walking with him in Wolfram's direction. "I just heard from Anissina that we will be leaving soon for our journey." He frowned a little. "This is much sooner than I expected. I'll have to start packing right away, and I hate leaving you all alone with…" His eyes narrowed in the direction of Wolfram who was taking some of the food from his breakfast plate, putting it on his spork, and catapulting it into the nearest rosebush. "Little Lord Brat," he said under his breath.

"I think I can survive for a few days," Yuuri said, trying to sound confident.

"You have no idea what he's like at this stage, Heika. I think you really need me." He grabbed Yuuri's arm in a dramatic attempt to save his beloved maou from the evil clutches of the demon child.

Yuuri sighed and tilted his head away. "I'll be fine," he mumbled back. "So, you'd better go pack. And that's an order." He winked at Günter, who practically had a nosebleed at the warm gesture shown to him.

When he was alone, Yuuri watched Wolfram a bit more. The blond didn't actually eat anything. He broke up the food into smaller pieces and moved them around the plate.

"He's not hungry," Yuuri said to himself. "And using the roses for target practice just shifts the attention away from the fact he's not eating." As he approached the child, the double black noticed the unmistakable call of "Wolfie! Oh, Wolfie! It looks like you're doing so much better!"

Cecile, in her usual black and very low cut dress, appeared as a figure in the distance.

Wolfram's shoulders sagged. Yuuri could hear a sigh that sounded like a mixture of misery and embarrassment.

Very quickly, the ex-maou came bounding towards the table where Wolfram sat alone. Now that she was up close and personal, the usual scowl on his face disappeared and, instead, there was the softer face that Yuuri had seen more than a few times. It was also a face, Yuuri noted, that Wolfram had used with him a few times—when his guard was down.

Wolfram stood up and stretched out his arms to hug her. He didn't put any effort into it, but he didn't need to. She shoved his face into her fat bosom and, for a second, Yuuri wondered if he was going to suffocate.

"I'm so glad you're better! I was going to come see you during the night, but Conrad said you were sleeping. So, I decided to come in the morning, but I couldn't find you." She squeezed him again. "I'm so happy!"

Wolfram looked at the ground a little when she decided to release him. "Mother," he said gasping for air with a pinkish face. There really was no stopping her once she got wound up. Yuuri smiled a little at that because _his Wolfram_ acted the same way.

_Little by little, I think he's coming back. It feels good_, Yuuri thought with a smirk. Then, at his elbow, he noticed that Conrad had joined him.

In the distance, there was suddenly another figure. Yuuri could just make out the shape of Cecile's lady-in-waiting, Emmaline. He secretly prayed that she wouldn't come too close. She liked him—maybe a little too much, and he wasn't in the mood.

Today, the lady's red hair was tied back with a pink ribbon. She waved a hankie of the same color in the air. "Oh, hello!" she called out.

_Oh, please…not at me,_ Yuuri thought. _Günter's bad enough. _

Then, the ex-maou turned back.

Emmaline was trying to get her attention, not Yuuri's. "You have letters!"

"Oh, my… I must go," Cecile said with a sheepish grin. "I simply can't ignore little love notes when they come."

"Are they from Sir Alexander?" Wolfram asked bluntly. His mouth a thin line.

"Alexander…? Oh, him…"

"Ummm…Mother…the man you're thinking about getting _engaged_ to… Brown hair, blue eyes… Smells vaguely like sardines... I come up to his chest and he likes to pat me on the head in a condescending way… _That_ Sir Alexander." The child's tone was getting lower and lower with each word.

"Well, you know…we were…um…close…but that was long ago…"

"It was last week… if I recall…_Mother_."

Her eyes opened wide at that. "Well, dearest, time marches on." She gave him an oversized smile. "See you later!"

Young Wolfram rolled his eyes openly and plopped down in the chair. _I guess…he probably wised up and dumped her, _the blond thought catapulting a piece of egg,_ once he found out she's not the maou._ Wolfram's sour expression got worse when he noticed that Conrad and Yuuri had been standing there and had heard the whole conversation, too. He put his elbow on the table and leaned into his palm.

"Wolfram, it's wonderful to see that you're getting better," Conrad said, hoping to change the subject. "But Gwendal told me about this morning. We think that it's best if you don't use any of your magic for awhile. It drains you."

He put his hand on Wolfram's shoulder in a brotherly way.

"Don't touch me with your human hands!" Wolfram said, smacking Conrad away.

Conrad just smiled back benignly. This was nothing new. So, he wasn't surprised at the reaction. However, he noted, with a little trepidation, that Yuuri was very unhappy about it all.

"Wolfram," Yuuri growled with a strange tone that came from extreme embarrassment even though he'd seen this same action when they first met. And, Yuuri couldn't shake this feeling. For some reason, what the blond just did seemed to reflect on them both—as a "team," no…not as a "couple"—and it didn't sit well with him. "I think you should be a little kinder to your big brother."

Green eyes shot daggers. "You can't tell me what to do." His voice was haughty. Briefly, he thought about flicking a piece of ham at the maou. _Yes, that would be fun._

A black eyebrow raised itself at that. "No, that should be 'You can't tell me what to do, Heika.'" Yuuri said back.

This surprised Conrad. Yuuri never played the "maou" card with Wolfram—ever. Then again, he never needed to.

Wolfram tossed his blond head. "Humph! Half-breeds…both of you."

"That's enough, Wolfram!" Yuuri barked. "I'm not putting up with that. Understand?" What the blond just said hurt. It really did, and he wasn't in the mood to figure out why just yet.

Wolfram got up from his seat and stood—raising himself up to his full, but rather short, height. He looked at Yuuri with his hands on his hips. But, one hand edged up his side to the place where the arrow struck. The pain was returning.

"I'll tell you what I 'understand,' _Heika_." Yuuri gritted his teeth a little at the last word. Wolfram never used it with him, and he was only doing it now because they were arguing. "What I understand is this… Humans are bad. Father always said so and he's right. They destroy villages and they start wars. They bring death."

"Your father?" Yuuri felt awkward now. "You know, you don't really mention him much."

Conrad's brown eyes took on a very worried look. _Not good._

"And why would I?" The child glared back. "Oh, believe me, he's no better than the jerks who are writing to my mother now. Do you want to know why? Well, I'll tell you _why_. My mother—who everyone says that I'm just like—happened to be married to a total jerk who cheated on her."

_Cheated? Oh, no… _"Wolfram, I'm so-" Yuuri began.

"Oh, don't say 'sorry' just yet. I haven't gotten to the _best part_. Right, Weller?" Wolfram didn't wait for a response. "Not only did he _cheat_ on her—an absolutely beautiful woman, everyone says so—but he brought in a concubine into the castle as well." His fists were balled up and he took an angry breath. "I met her. I didn't know who she was at the time. But I _met_ her." Wolfram narrowed his emerald eyes at the ground and uttered "That cheater!"

Yuuri swallowed hard.

"And then, when mother found out… She's the maou! Of course, she'd find out! She confronted him. I heard it. They woke me up in the night arguing."

"I didn't know that," Conrad said sadly.

"And when she told him that she knew about that witch, father denied it!" Wolfram folded his arms against his chest. "And he continued to deny it until Mother had the witch exiled. Then, he confessed." Tears were coming to green eyes. He blinked them back. "Wimp," he said angrily. "He wasn't even man enough to admit what he did."

_No, I will not cry. I will not!_ The blond looked at the direction where his mother had gone. "So, if she's searching for love…again…then she's the idiot."

He stared deeply into Yuuri's eyes. "So, listen, _Maou_. Know this. No matter who you marry, it will end up the same way. It always does."

Wolfram reached over, threw his napkin into his plate, and walked away saying, "I'm not hungry."

_Wolfram's life lesson number four: If you love someone, you give them the power to hurt you._

* * *

Yes, they had lost Wolfram in the castle again. Yuuri and Conrad decided to let him cool off for awhile after his outburst in the rose garden. The child really needed to have some time to himself. But, after an hour, Conrad pretended to "not look" for him. Yuuri joined the search after Conrad poked his head into the King's Study to see if the blond child was there. No luck. Gwendal decided to call it quits for the day, too, because the paperwork could wait one more day. Then, he, decided to "not look" for Wolfram like the others. So, it all ended up with the whole castle choosing to do other things besides "look" for Little Lord Brat which, in fact, they actually were.

"And I heard that Sir Weller has two moles on his…" she whispered into her coworker's ear. Two of the maids giggled evilly, and then continued to chat amongst themselves as they walked down the hallway with their cleaning supplies. They'd just finished up scrubbing Yuuri's private bath. After filling it with water again, they helped each other tote away the scrub brushes, cleaning rinse, and mops. So, Wolfram reasoned, it would be the perfect place to hide.

Once inside, Wolfram removed his clothes—leaving a long trail of laundry behind him. It was steamy and the room had a vague haze to it. Usually, he'd scrub his body down good with soap and shampoo before soaking in the swimming pool sized tub. He seemed to remember doing that with Gwendal and the servants in attendance many times before. And the scrubbing was a part of his bath routine. But, Wolfram didn't want to get caught going into Gwendal's room to steal the soap and towels. So, he decided to do the next best thing—jump into the freshly cleaned bath after only rinsing himself off with water. If he still had dirt clinging to him, that would just be too bad for the "Heika." He laughed at that thought.

The sound of a childish chuckle caught Yuuri's ears. He'd just opened his bedroom door for a second to "not look" around when he heard the sound. Before the child knew it, the double black entered with his towel, soap, a rubber duck, and shampoo in a round, wooden container.

_Caught! Darn it_, Wolfram thought as the smile ran away from his face. He forced himself to appear disinterested. And he had to work hard not to grit his teeth in frustration.

"Hello, Wolfram," Yuuri said casually. He began to scrub himself down with soap and water. "Enjoying yourself?"

"Maybe," the child said back, lowering himself in the water to where he could blow bubbles with his lips. Bubble. Bubble. Bubble.

"That's good," Yuuri said and, with a white towel around his hips, he got into the bath.

Wolfram now stared back dully, water over the bridge of his nose.

"I just felt like taking a bath after work," Yuuri said, looking at him out of the corner of his eye.

He lifted his head. "You just came to spy on me," Wolfram said. He stood up a little in the water—which at the far end of the bath was waist high for him—and splashed a little water in Yuuri's direction.

Yuuri noted, with some relief, that the arrow wound was totally healed over now. There was, however, a horrible puncture wound type of scar that remained. It sunk in with loose skin which marred the firm, glossy white texture of Wolfram's body. A part of Yuuri felt sad at the sight, because he was certain it would never go away.

The child noticed the pitying look and splashed water at him.

"I don't know how it happened," Wolfram said defensively. "So, quit staring, okay?"

"I wasn't staring," Yuuri said back, sending water Wolfram's way now.

"Were so!"

"Were not!"

"Were so!

"Were not!"

"Were so!" Wolfram said and crossed his arms against his pre-adolescent chest.

"Who's the maou?" Yuuri asked sarcastically.

"You are," Wolfram grumbled. He pouted.

"Just so you know," Yuuri teased back. It felt good to see the blond give in a little.

Emerald eyes narrowed at him mischievously. "Really?" he said with a crooked grin. "Then, know this!" He mooned Yuuri and laughed at him with an "I-won-this-time" grin of triumph.

"I've seen it before. And I wasn't impressed then, and I'm not now," Yuuri laughed back.

Wolfram blushed with his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. Then, he thought of something. Yuuri had to be lying to him because he had no memory of ever sharing a bath with the man. _Okay, I'll play your game…_ "You're just saying that because you can't do magic. Heh. Heh. Heh. And I can. Heh. Heh. Heh."

"You're the only one who thinks so," Yuuri said back, taking his rubber duck from the side of the tub and floating it on the water. He noted, with more than a little satisfaction, that he had Wolfram's full attention.

Green eyes saw the toy. Deep down, he really wanted a closer look at it. Play with it. It floated and it could be fun. But, that stupid Yuuri had it, and it belonged to him. Ignore the yellow toy for now. He crossed his arms and flung his wet hair with an intentional "humph" in Yuuri's direction—sending a "slosh" of water at him.

"That was rotten," Yuuri said, wiping the water from his face and giving a dark grin.

"Suck on that, old man!" Wolfram said, leaning forward and baring his teeth.

"You want magic?" Yuuri grinned. "I'll show you magic!"

Almost immediately, the water in the tub began to swirl into a whirlpool. It turned and foamed. Then, out came two water dragons. Yuuri was proud that he didn't need to go into Maou Mode to do it. But, deep inside his heart, he could sense other maou's presence, and the man was vastly amused.

Young wolfram suddenly found himself twisted into the embrace of two water dragons who were only too happy to lift him out of the water and suspend him over the tub.

"Whoa!" Wolfram yelled, feeling himself levitating and not liking the cold breeze blowing between his knees.

"So, Wolfram?" Yuuri said cheekily. "Who doesn't have any magic? I think you made an assumption."

He got a bug eyed stare from above.

"Apologize," the double black practically sang.

"No!" The blond refused with a stuck out lower lip.

"A-p-o-l-o-g-i-z-e," the voice said again to him.

"Make me!"

At that point, a rubber duck hit his head.

"Ow!" Green eyes narrowed down at him. He could hear laughter echoing, and he didn't like it one bit. "Stop throwing that chicken at me!"

A cutesy "Eh?" was followed by a chuckle.

"I said that you should stop throwing poultry at me in the bathtub!" He struggled a bit without success. "So, no chicken!"

"Chicken? It's a rubber duckie, Wolfram!"

There was a bigger laugh from down below.

Now, pink faced, he scrunched his eyes tightly. "You're being a total butt, _Heika_!"

"Umm… From my point-of-view, you're the butt, Wolfram." And, with that, the water dragons disappeared and the blond landed "smack" on the water—leaving a freshly spanked, red derriere for Wolfram to deal with.

* * *


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Yuuri and Gwendal opened the bedroom door and ushered young Wolfram inside who was still towel drying his hair.

Yuuri noted with amusement that this Wolfram wasn't all cute and prissy. The child shoved the white towel left and right roughly—leaving a spiky blond with hair standing straight up.

"Oi!" He snapped the damp towel at Gwendal to get his attention. "_This isn't _my room," the boy grumped. He had his hands on his hips again, but one hand slowly inched up to his side. The pain was back, fuzzy, but back. He tried to ignore it. He was so close to being a soldier. And soldiers weren't wimps.

"Don't tell me that my room has gone…missing? And what about all of my stuff?" He eyed Yuuri and Gwendal. He saw them giving each other looks that he couldn't decipher. "It didn't just grow legs over night and walk off," the blond complained.

When he wasn't paying attention, Gwendal took the damp towel from Wolfram—and then snapped it at his little butt when the blond glared at Yuuri for an answer.

Wolfram stared up at his big brother, his jaw practically on the floor. The blond spikes wilted. "You didn't have to be like that," the boy pouted.

_Moving right along._ "We've decided that since…you've been sick lately…we want you closer to us." It wasn't the truth, but Yuuri needed a good excuse to keep Wolfram from getting upset—which would require more explanations than they had time for.

"It's either this, or you sleep with me," Gwendal droned.

"Or me," Yuuri said, bending low to catch Wolfram's eye.

"No thanks, both of you!" He screwed up his face as though he had a bad taste in his mouth. "You guys decide everything, and I'm just expected to sit back and take it." He stomped his right foot on the floor hard. This sucked. It really did, but he wasn't weak and didn't want their pity for being sick. Nope, he wouldn't have their pity at all. _They're jerks…both of them._ "And I don't need someone to hold my hand to protect me from the jack-a-nape gremlin or the fluff mites, either."

"The what?" Yuuri said, looking totally confused.

"You know…the jack-a-nape gremlin," Wolfram sighed impatiently with a "What rock have you been living under?" vibe to his eyes. "It's the gremlin who comes in the night and loosens your baby teeth when you sleep with your mouth open."

"Oh…well," Yuuri said, feeling a little sick at the thought of a wart-faced gremlin breaking and entering just to loosen up teeth in his mouth.

"The fluff mites," Gwendal added, looking slightly amused but was trying to hide it, "climb into your navel and build bellybutton lint."

"Right…" Yuuri sighed.

"I'm a little too old for all that stuff. So, I'll be fine on my own…as always."

Wolfram noticed that Yuuri and his big brother didn't seem convinced. Another strange look passed between them. So, he marched himself over to the large bed, pulled back the covers, and crawled in. "No worries. I'm brave."

"Of course…I would expect nothing less than that from my youngest brother," Gwendal replied with his hand on the knob. Yuuri saw, with an inward smirk, that young Wolfram was looking down but grinning broadly at that. It was followed by a nod.

"Then, goodnight," Yuuri said, "we'll see you tomorrow morning." With a flick of his hand, all of the candles went out in the room. The blond smiled at that, too.

Just as the door was closing, he said, "Yuuri?"

"Yes, Wolfram?" _He called me 'Yuuri!' Yes! _

"Thanks…"

* * *

After lying in bed for an hour, Yuuri came to the conclusion that sleep just wasn't going to happen. At least, not right now. Maybe, it was because he didn't have Greta and Wolfram with him. Or, maybe, it was just Wolfram. Honestly, he didn't know. But the double black decided that he'd put off figuring out exactly why for another time. If not, he'd certainly stay awake all night long.

_I'm wide awake and I'm bored._

He smacked the pillow with his fist and would have slept with Wolfram's nightie as a pillow again but, now, it didn't smell like him anymore. One of the maids had found where he'd stashed it under the bed and gave it a good wash.

Finally, Yuuri made the decision that, just this once, he'd break his "no midnight snacking" rule that he had (mostly for Greta's sake because she would love the excuse to have a 'Midnight Milk and Cookies Break') and planned to venture down to the kitchen.

Yawn. Stretch.

The door to the king's chambers opened with a wooden groan. He padded down the hall with another stretch. Looking stupid with his arms waving in the air, Yuuri passed the guard on duty with another yawn trying to overtake him. Yuuri, then, gave a quick wave and continued on his way_. I hope no one else is around. I'm still in my robe and slippers—not exactly "kingly" attire for a Demon King._ He walked down the breezy hallway and took a left, pulling the robe closer to him. No one. He was almost there. Just three more hallways to go. Maybe, just maybe, he could sneak in and grab something quick.

_Damn!_

From hearing voices coming from the kitchen, Yuuri realized that he was not going to get his wish. He sighed to himself. Looking down at his robe, he leaned against the wall and debated this. Should he go in and join them in his royal pajamas? Should he just go back to bed? It would be a lot fewer calories if he went back to bed.

"And they say that Lord Bielefeld should be back to himself as soon as he 'grows up' enough," one female voice said. It was followed by a girlish giggle.

_That voice… I know it. It belongs to Emmaline,_ Yuuri thought.

"Yeah, that's what they say. Oh, this tea is good Mrs. Malapropos! Thank you kindly." It was followed by the sound of a wet, slurpy sip.

_Okay, that sounds like one of the guards and the assistant cook's name. So, she must be in there, too_, Yuuri thought.

"The tea? Oh, I think it was either Lasagna or Sangria who found the peppermint tea in the village."

"However," the guard continued, "will things really be the same again? I mean, we'll get the same old 'Wolfram the Undesirable' back?"

_Wolfram…the Undesirable?_ Yuuri's dark eyes widened at that.

Emmaline sighed, "Who knows, Jacob?"

"Oh, by the way," the guard asked, "do they call him 'undesirable' because he's a brat—as in 'Little Lord Brat?' As I've heard his oldest brother call 'em?"

_Jacob…? Oh, I know this guard. He's the new one who stands outside of my study. He's there on the other side of the door when I'm working with Gwendal signing papers._ Yuuri leaned against the wall. He started debating on leaving now for a whole new set of reasons. Maybe he should. Personally, he'd never heard castle gossip before—and never liked it in school—but, now, it seemed almost impossible to leave.

"Actually, no" Emmaline said, knowing well that she had her little audience's full attention at the table. "He's 'undesirable' because he's the fiancé to a king who doesn't…_desire_ him. If you understand my meaning." She took a sip and made a "mmm" sound. "Poor, lonely guy," she sighed.

Yuuri shut his eyes and wanted to beat his head into the wall_. Wolfram…no… I mean, I know that people talk about you…about us. But, this… I never planned to do this to you. This whole "engagement" thing was a mistake from the beginning. And, then, it got complicated when you decided that you wanted me after all. I'm your "special person." I know that. How many times have you said it? Implied it? …Meant it…?_

"You're serious?! Oh," the guard said, "that's really too bad…and kind of embarrassing. You know, I thought everyone was a little in love with him...his private guard, especially."

Yuri blinked hard at that._ His…private guard…a little in love…with Wolfram? Wait… Their job is to __protect__ him and work with him. That's all…_ Now, Yuuri found himself feeling something else entirely. It was like an itch in his chest that he couldn't scratch. It was something akin to anger mixed with a healthy dose of…of something else…a kind of emotional rivalry? But, no, it wasn't that. _Jealousy?_ _No!_ It was just his reaction to hearing castle gossip for the first time. For certain, he was feeling something strong. But he couldn't decide who to direct his _anger_—no "annoyance"—at.

"I've heard that one, too," Emmaline cooed. "All of his men just _love_ him."

_Why am I not surprised?_ Yuuri frowned at her from the other side of the wall.

"Ah, but what can we say about the hungry heart?" the assistant cook, Mrs. Malapropos, said authoritatively. "Love goes up and down like a metronome."

_Yup, _thought Yuuri,_ that's Mrs. Malapropos. She's the most clueless person I've ever met. Why we trust her with our food, I'll never know._

"Be that as it may," the guard continued, "I heard a tale told by one of the gardeners that the people who attacked Lord Bielefeld might come back for a second try."

"Those humans? Never. He's perfectly safe here…or, so my lady tells me," Emmaline said. But, then, her voice sounded a little uncertain. "Isn't that right, Jacob? I mean, you are a guard. You should know better than anybody…"

"Definitely… Perfectly safe," he said.

"I'm not too sure about that, Jacob, because gardeners are always in the grow with their feet planted solidly on the earth!"

"I think that's 'know,'" Emmaline corrected politely.

"Yes, that, too." Mrs. Malapropos agreed in a pompous tone.

_Wait! Do they really know that Wolfram isn't safe? Or are they only guessing? Yozak's message was pretty clear. Those guys might get hold of more painted arrows. And, it's possible that Wolfram or some other high ranking Mazoku, could be the next target._

"Well, I'd better be going to my quarters to get some sleep. I'm on duty at sunrise. Since I'm new, I can't afford to oversleep and be late."

"I'd better be going, too. Although my lady never wakes before nine," she said with a slight giggle. "Thank you so much for the tea Mrs. Malapropos."

"Oh, don't bother with the cups, my dears. I'll clean up. You go on."

There was the sound of three stools scooting away from the kitchen table.

Both the lady and the soldier left through the nearest door, but never saw Yuuri's shadow heading in the other direction.

* * *

The wooden sign that said "Three Pine Inn" shifted slightly on its rusty nail on the outside of the building. The inn had a long, narrow front porch with park benches for sitting. The front porch itself had almost fifty small metal wind chimes hanging from it due to the owner's new hobby of making them. The soft tinkling sounds floated on the morning breeze as Mrs. Renaldo listened with satisfaction, sweeping some dirt out the door with a crudely shaped, homemade broom—which just might be her next hobby, she hoped.

Five men grumbled a greeting to her as they left. The sixth, an old man with a fuzzy kind of white afro and a twisted walking stick, followed but seemed much kinder to her. He actually winked. She blushed and told herself that even though she'd been married for twenty-five years, she "still had it." As a result, Mrs. Renaldo was in an excellent mood for the rest of the day.

Five horses took a road that was leading back, strangely enough, to the Mazoku side of the border—back to the taverns there, too. Yozak quickly saddled up his horse and followed discretely behind.

_Hmmm… They've cleaned up well,_ Yozak thought grimly, noting the Mazoku disguises that the humans wore today. They had actually washed and shaved, too, with the exception of the elder one who had salt and pepper colored hair coming out of his ears. But, he was sporting a grey wig to match. So, his disguise seemed to fit somehow.

Yozak also noticed the boss, leading the way with a smug look on his chops. He was carrying a highly decorated wooden quiver that was lashed together with strands of braided sinew and, not surprisingly, arrows that had long stripes of magic metallic paint that glinted slightly when the sun hit them just right. All of the men were armed with swords, too. Nice swords—hand forged, high quality, battle ready.

_These guys may sound like scum, but they're definitely not amateurs. _

Yozak dropped back a little when the human with the light blue wig noticed him riding behind.

"Oi!" the fat nosed one said to his companions, very suspicious, "What's that guy doin'?" He pointed to Yozak following behind. By the time the others were looking, Yozak had jumped down from his horse, lowered his pants, and was watering a tree with relief.

Fat nose suddenly felt glares from all sides. "You're just sick and stupid," the boss said. The others agreed, and they journeyed on to the tavern.

* * *

Using a pair of metal tongs, the arrowhead was placed down on the white marble counter—showing off the brilliant rainbow colors that it had inside.

On the far side of the room, Greta called, "Is this far enough?"

"Yes…"

"But, I'm not a Mazoku like Wolfram or Daddy."

"Yes…" The red head looked behind her at the little ten year old princess. "However, you forget that the arrow has poison, too."

"Oh…right," the child said, looking worried now. "Can it get me from here?"

Anissina smiled to herself wickedly with her back to the child. "Oh, I don't know… If you keep your hands in your lap and stay quiet on that stool… You should be fine."

For the next fifteen minutes, Greta was a virtual statue that blinked occasionally.

Through the open doorway, a little old woman wearing a patchwork shawl and a little skull cap over long, graying strands of hair entered the room. "Sorry for making you wait."

"It's certainly no bother," Anissina said cheerily, "because it's not every day that I have the chance to speak with Leona Constantia, the famous alchemist."

"Why, thank you," she smiled, pulling out her spectacles to get a better look at the object on her table. "Yes…thank you _very_ _much_…" Her voice faded away to a hushed tone as she took the tongs and picked up the arrowhead.

"You might want to be careful with that," Anissina began.

"Because it's poisoned," Leona finished for her. "Yes…yes… I know all about painted arrows. Dipped in poison. The rainbow obsidian starts to burn your insides the minute it's in you. The whistling sound it makes in the air once it's fired…" She turned the object around again. "You know that these things were once pretty well sought after…by humans… about two hundred and…oh…I'd say twenty years or so…" She smiled politely but didn't take her eyes off of the stone. "Oh, but I see that most of the poison's gone from this one. It's lost that grayish tint."

Leona looked up and blinked. Her strong glasses gave her a bug-eyed appearance. "So, did the person on the wrong end of this die?" she asked bluntly.

"No! Wolfram is doing okay." Greta turned worried eyes at Anissina. "He will be fine, right?"

"We found an antidote in one of the ancient texts," the inventor said almost cheekily. She decided to leave out the rest of the tale—which would be too complicated to relate.

"Oh, that's good," Leona prattled, not really paying attention now. "But, you know, these are really rare now. It's just too much bother to find a stone big and powerful enough. It's much easier to make an ordinary arrow and dip it in poison."

"That was my thought, too, unless," Anissina said, "someone found a lot of stones and began making them again."

"Unlikely," the alchemist said. "Rocks like these could fetch a much higher price from an alchemist—such as myself." Her eyes gleamed at the sight of the stone. "You know, I'm very good with stones, but I've made quite a few advances in herbal alchemy, too." She smiled to herself. "That's why I asked if the person who was shot with this arrow survived."

"Oh, I see…Nature is a raw form and it's thought that the combination of those natural elements will bring nature to a higher level."

"That's the basic idea," Leona said. She took a small piece of tan cloth and began to dab at the arrowhead. Small flecks of red came off. "Dried…blood…of a Mazoku …understandable…but…" She picked up a tiny vessel of clear liquid and poured some on the cloth. Then, she rubbed the arrowhead again. The cloth turned black and it spat like bacon grease.

Leona held the cloth up to her face and smiled grimly.

"Something?" Anissina breathed expectantly, looking at the tan cloth.

"This arrowhead was cursed—to make it fly faster and to make it extra painful when it struck. Now, why go through all that bother?"

Anissina frowned at the arrow.

"Come on… I think you know what I'm talking about. This arrow—unless they made more than one, which I believe they probably did—was constructed…prepared…designed to strike a particular person. This is the work of a plan of assassination. There's no other explanation because the materials are so expensive and so well made." The woman's large eyeglasses looked up into Anissina's face. "And there's only one clan that I know of that can do this kind of work, with this much craftsmanship, because they're elite Mazoku arms merchants." She chuckled grimly and tossed the cloth into the trash. "And if you travel to the border of the Bielefeld lands, you just might meet them."

* * *

_Wolfram, what are we? I don't know anymore. I was fine just ignoring our engagement—pretending that it didn't happen and that it didn't matter. But now, I… I've really hurt you, haven't I? _

_Worse yet, I'm miserable with you…and I'm miserable…without you. _

_I don't really understand what love is anyway. Maybe, we're both leaning. But are our answers…the right ones…?_

He shoved his hands in his robe pockets.

_The real you… Will you ever come back?_

Yuuri was walking past Wolfram's bedroom when he noticed the soft glow of a light under the door.

"I thought we told him to go to bed a long time ago," Yuuri grumbled to himself, feeling vexed slightly that young Wolfram didn't listen—again.

There was a single candle burning. He opened the door a crack only to see a blond figure out of bed with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He was standing on the balcony, looking up at the stars. Even in the shadows, Yuuri could see that Wolfram was smiling in wonder—impressed with the night sky—playing "connect the dots" with the stars and a forefinger—humming to himself.

Quietly, Yuuri closed the door. He went back to his own room, got into bed, and pulled the covers around him.

Right now, Wolfram was happy. He was truly happy. And that was enough.

* * *


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The next morning, Yuuri slept in late. It was one of those rare days when everyone allowed him the luxury of sleeping as long as he wanted. No maids trying to tidy up. No Gwendal and legal documents. No annoying, melodramatic speeches from Günter—mostly because he was away with Greta and Anissina. And, if he was lucky, Cecile wouldn't think to bother him until late in the day, if at all. And Gisela would be tending to Wolfram.

Peace at last.

Yuuri rolled in the bed. He reached a hand out. It had to be a reflex. It just had to be—searching for something. No _someone_. The warmth wasn't there. The sleeping body of a certain blond who had a habit of taking over the bed and giving him a swift kick now and then… Gone.

Yuuri opened his eyes and stared at the canopy_. 'Wolfram the Undesirable,' huh? _It was the first thing that came to his mind. It was still eating at him. _That's not exactly true. There are a lot of people here who care for him._ Then Yuuri frowned and his eyes narrowed at nothing in particular. _Especially, his… private…elite guard. _Then, Yuuri shook his head hard. "What am I doing on my day off?" he said to himself grumpily. "I could be sleeping. But, I'm wide awake." He got out of bed, grabbed his clothes from the closet, and let them drag on the floor as he headed towards the bath. Sure, if Wolfram had been around, he'd be annoyed with the clothes being dragged. But, he wasn't around. Yuuri could do what he liked.

"And I've got to forget all of that _stupid_, castle gossip. It's still bothering me."

Brush. Swish. Spit. The toothbrush went back into the drinking cup. Dark eyes looked into the mirror as he brushed his wet hair. His bath had been boring and, he reluctantly admitted, a little lonely. He was dressed now in his black school uniform with the white undershirt. He straightened the jacket part and made double sure that he'd buttoned down everything just right. _If not, Wolfram will really complain and…_ He caught himself again. His Wolfram was gone.

_Sigh_. Yuuri walked into his bedroom again. He was going to take the map he borrowed back to the library and get another one. Lately, his lessons with Günter were over geography. And, as it turned out, he wasn't half bad at it. Glancing over another map, at least, would be a good way to kill some time until Conrad was free for a little game of catch. Yuuri was really looking forward to seeing his godfather, too. It was less of a _wanting_. He felt that he _needed_ to toss the ball around. He needed to think. Maybe, he could run a few of his problems—no, his "ideas"—by Conrad to see what he thought. Then, two figures caught Yuuri's attention outside the window.

Slowly, Yuuri approached the curtains and pulled them back to get a better look. The material slid away with a shimmering sound, but he didn't notice. The double black was too focused on the two people he saw…which were Gwendal and… "_Wolfram_!" It was definitely the blond. They seemed to be having a serious talk while walking together—side by side. Wolfram's hands were in his pockets. Every few steps, he looked up at his older brother with his mouth open slightly—not believing what he was hearing, it seemed. Then, he stopped in his tracks, glared back, and appeared to be barking something with his fists clinched at his sides. Gwendal, as usual, was unimpressed.

"Wolfram! Yes! He's back!" Yuuri said, thrilled to see his best friend again.

Before Yuuri knew it, he was speeding through the castle in a most "unkingly" manner. He almost collided with Conrad in the hall, mumbled "sorry," zoomed past Gisela, ran harder, and made a toothy grin at Jacob, the gossipy guard from last night, who was posted outside of the royal study.

"Yes!" Yuuri said, going out the front of the castle and running hard up to the two people he wanted to see most—Gwendal and Wolfram. Well, mostly Wolfram.

_Yes! I've got him back. This is great!_ Yuuri thought, grinning broadly.

Gwendal blinked hard, not believing that his very own sovereign would make such an effort to greet them. Wolfram, too, raised his head at the sound of the footfalls.

"Wolfram! Wolfram!" Yuri cheered, "You're…!"

He stopped in his tracks.

_You're fourteen now. _Yuuri's face fell_. No! No! He's not back yet!_ The double black lowered his head. _Why isn't he back?! I can't keep going through this_.

Breathing hard, he leaned forward and rested his hands on his knees for support. Some part of Yuuri wanted to cry, but not in front of those two. So, he kept his head down and focused on breathing.

* * *

Wearing a high collared yellow and white lace dress that Cecile had designed for her, Greta looked out the coach window at the cloudless, blue sky. This adventure was really fun and she was helping her daddy. She swung her little feet prettily as she thought about it all. Then, she opened her latest "Anissina" adventure book and started to read.

Sitting on the same velvet covered seat but the opposite side of the coach was Günter. He was struggling to hold an adult conversation with Anissina over what they'd learned so far without involving Greta. And it was proving quite a challenge.

"So," Günter began cautiously, tucking a violet strand of hair behind his ear, "we are returning to Blood Pledge Castle now."

Anissina nodded slowly.

"Then, can we call this a success?" He gave a serious look to the woman sitting across from him. "Do we have a better understanding of why the arrow was—"constructed"—and by whom?"

"We certainly do," Anissina said evenly. "Apparently, there is a small clan residing in the Bielefeld territory that specializes in manufacturing and selling weaponry."

With that, the king's advisor leaned an elbow against the open window and watched the world slowly pass by. "It would be interesting to know whether or not _everyone_ in that area is aware of them…"

Anissina knew very well what he was implying and wrinkled her nose at that. She shot a quick glance at Greta. Luckily, the child wasn't paying attention, or didn't seem to be. "My guess is that the nobles are probably aware of their 'activities' but are choosing not to do anything about them. This clan has been around for a long time, I understand. And both humans and Mazoku have…" Her eyes darted to Greta briefly. "Have…um…_benefited_."

She noticed him turning his attention back from the window.

Günter straightened out his white, long coat with a few quick brushes of his hand. As the maou's self-appointed advisor, tutor, and mentor, he felt that it had to be said, "And what if the Bielefeld relatives are…um… How should one say it? I suppose, there's really no delicate way of phrasing the concept of 'best customers,' is there?"

Anissina shook her red head "no." "That thought occurred to me as well..." She shot another quick glance at the child and continued, "However… It's not in their best interest. In fact, they gain prestige by having a member of their bloodline—even one who is as loud mouthed and difficult as _he_ happens to be—engaged to the maou. Married to the maou would be _better_ because they would all bask in the glow."

Günter shook his head in agreement. "Politically, that is true. So, that leads us back to the clan of weapons makers. Did Lady Leona Constantia have a name for this clan of rebels?"

"I think 'rebels' isn't really an accurate description. I'd go with 'enterprising enthusiasts or even economic opportunists,'" she replied easily.

"Well, if they are the ones who did this themselves, I wouldn't describe them as 'opportunists.' It's common knowledge that our soldiers were ambushed with only _one_ _person_ targeted.

The coach wheels hit a patch of rocks, jarring everyone. Greta looked up from her book, enjoyed the brief bumping, and turned the page of her book with a grin. Anissina smiled at her.

"Obviously, they're not the sort to do things for nothing," Günter continued, thinking out loud now. "Hmmm…maybe we can meet with the clan and propose a counter offer… Though, historically speaking, this tactic rarely works. The previous maous would just hunt them down and eradicate them."

"Well, that's not an option," Anissina said with a thin smile. "Yuuri-Heka will want us to find them, contact them, and speak to them before making any firm decisions."

"I agree," Günter said, "even if our 'Little Loud Lord' almost died because of it, Heika won't seek any kind of revenge. It just shows his forgiving nature and limitless kindness." The advisor's eyes grew soft.

"True," the inventor said. "Then again, you will be back in a few hours and you can see Heika again." She wiggled a red eyebrow. Yes, she had baited him, but she was bored, too, and wanted some sort of entertainment.

At the thought of the dark haired and dark eyed Yuuri, Günter went off into a pleasant daydream. He saw himself and a happy-go-lucky Shibuya Yuuri skipping through a field of red poppies in their formal dress attire while everyone in the kingdom looked on and clapped for them as a happy couple. Confetti drifted down from the sky.

"Günter? Günter?" Anissina said, waiving a hand in front of the advisor with a slightly amused look on her face.

"What's wrong with him?" Greta asked, giggling a little behind her hand.

"With the amount of sugar in his daydreams, it's a wonder that Günter doesn't get a sugar rush," the red haired woman laughed.

"So, he's a girl after all?" Greta asked.

"A very young one," Anissina said while Günter pouted at the pair.

* * *

"Wolfram?" Gwendal said, giving the blond a very stern look and something unspoken passed between the pair, "This is the new maou. His name is Shibuya Yuuri."

Wolfram glared at Yuuri with deep anger in his eyes. Blond hair blown back by the wind gave the suggestion of flames.

"…Your sovereign lord and master…" There was a hard edge to Gwendal's voice which affirmed that this was not up to negotiation. End of story.

"But…Gwendal!" Wolfram growled, his eyes looking at the maou before him with revulsion.

Despite himself, Yuuri squirmed. It was uncomfortable just standing nearby. How he could go from _wanting_ Wolfram so much one minute to _wanting to escape_ him the next—the double black didn't know. But, he did know that the switch wasn't a new feeling. It was familiar.

"Look at yourself," his older brother said, "and think of the position you are in. Respect it. Follow orders. Or, I'll be more than happy to dismiss you from the military."

Yuuri blinked at that and his jaw fell open. It was a first for Gwendal to be so forceful.

_He's in a mood today,_ the double black thought. _Maybe I should avoid them both_.

Wolfram's look was heartbroken. This was the life he'd always wanted. And he was so close to getting it—so close. "As you say." He backed down from his aggressive stance, lowering his head to make a slight bow at the maou. When he straightened up, the blond rested his hands on his hips. But one hand inched up higher. His side was starting to hurt again—burn again. If he just put enough pressure there, maybe he could get it to stop. He didn't want to make another trip to see a healer, either. In his opinion, the green haired girl didn't do him much good.

Wolfram pressed his side harder still.

Yuuri caught the motion this time because it wasn't so smooth. The blond was biting his lower lip. His skin was whiter than usual. Obviously, the pain was back and Yuuri noticed dark circles under fourteen year old Wolfram's eyes. _He isn't sleeping, is he?_

Gwendal continued on. "Because, cadet, if you don't learn to get along with your king, how can I trust you to defend him?"

The blond shook his head with a grim "I know! I know! You don't need to tell me twice" attitude.

"And a cadet, even if he is my younger brother, can be dismissed—forever—for dereliction of duty. Are we clear?" Gwendal barked pompously.

_He keeps saying… "cadet"?_ Yuuri's eyes drifted to Wolfram again. _Yes, of course!_ Wolfram was wearing the uniform of a cadet. Yuuri was just so used to seeing Wolfram wearing a variety of clothes that were much too large for him that he never really noticed that the new blue uniform actually fit him this time.

"So," Gwendal continued, "remember everything that we've already talked about. He is your king. Stay by his side. Do as he commands—without question. You are in no position to say 'no' to him. Understand?"

Wolfram, with a mixture of worry and annoyance, gave his older brother a sincere nod. This was followed by a fatherly hand on Wolfram's narrow shoulder. And, this time, it worked. Gwendal had frightened the fire out of him. The cadet appeared meek and replied with a soft, but somewhat forced "yes sir."

"Ah…well," Yuuri began, trying to be a nice guy.

Gwendal shot Yuuri a look, too, that seemed to say, "Don't just 'undo' everything that I've done. It's settled!"

Yuuri laughed a little to himself nervously with a hand behind his head.

Gwendal's stern gaze drifted back to his younger brother. "Now that you're a cadet, have you lost your manners as well?"

Wolfram's green eyes widened at his brother. "Oh, my apologies…" He turned to Yuuri, still with a sense of annoyance and disapproval in his voice, but decided it best to continue with a short bow followed by, "Greetings. My name is Wolfram von Bielefeld and I am the third son of Cecilie von Spitzberg. It is my…"

" Extreme pleasure to meet your acquaintance," Yuuri and Wolfram both said together.

Green eyes shot back up to his brother. "He's _mocking_ me," Wolfram growled childishly between clinched teeth. He pointed at the king.

"He can say whatever he likes…_CADET_."

With that, Wolfram lowered his head again and wanted very badly to stomp his foot or kick the dirt. When training, he could do that and get away with it when no one was looking.

"Actually, Wolfram," Yuuri said kindly, "you've said that stuff to me so often …I've learned it."

"Impossible," the blond said back in a pouty voice with arms crossed, "I've never met you before today. In fact, my brother had to tell me all about you."

Yuuri's eyes grew kind. "You've been sick, Wolfram, and that's why you don't remember." When he got a doubtful look from the blond, Yuuri said, "That's why you have a scar on your side. Even now, it's still hurting you, I know that… And you've been taking medicine, too."

Gwendal gave his younger brother a sharp glance to hide his worry. If Yuuri could see something in Wolfram that he couldn't, it hurt his pride a little as well. But he'd never admit that.

Openly this time, Wolfram moved a hand to his side, his mouth open a little in surprise. He thought back to earlier that morning. He nodded. "Yes, I had to drink some awful tasting stuff because the medicine I had been taking previously made me sick."

"We were all worried about you," Yuuri said sincerely, leaning in a little. He noted with a smile to himself that Wolfram turned slightly pinkish at that.

Gwendal saw the look, too, and his shoulders relaxed. "Fine, then… Since Wolfram has had his fit about the maou and has, to my satisfaction, gotten over it…" He emphasized that last part to get it through Wolfram's thick skull. "We can all go on with our lives."

The cadet sighed impatiently. "Then, I suppose, I'm off to training," Wolfram said, taking two strides away only to have a hand tug at his arm.

"Not today, Wolfram," Gwendal replied.

"Why? I'm a cadet now. I need to work on my basics with the others." Just the thought made him smile. Being a soldier was his life long dream. "You know, Gwendal, I'm even better than Spagel, Achen, and Durr. And they started training a year ahead of me!" There was a prideful little stance that he took that warmed Gwendal's heart. But, he wouldn't be able to let his little brother have his way.

"I'll let you go back to training in a week," Gwendal said sternly. "You need to be feeling much better than this or you could have a relapse. So, you'll need to stay near the castle."

Wolfram looked up at him with an "Oh, I see now" expression. "If I'm not practicing…then… Lessons? Do I have to study instead?" Maybe, he could spend some time with Gwendal in the library. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all. He brightened at the thought.

"Lessons, huh? Well, Gwendal… Are you going to teach that?" Yuuri teased lightly. He got a slight frown as an answer.

"Fine, I'll give you a choice. In fact," he looked at Yuuri, "instead of a 'choice' I'll make a deal."

Both of the young men in front of him stared back.

"We could have extra lessons with Günter…"

_But that isn't possible because Günter isn't here,_ Yuuri thought to himself, _and Gwendal knows that._

"Or, Wolfram, you can stay by Yuuri-Heka's side and practice your future job—your duty, in fact—protecting the maou."

Emerald eyes locked with black ones.

"A week of…no lessons…no work…for either of us?" Yuuri said, a smile coming to his lips.

Gwendal gave a curt nod in return. "I can handle all of the legal documents for the maou unless a national emergency should arise." His eyes sparkled with mischief.

Wolfram smirked to himself. "I get to practice…protecting the maou…?"

"Deal!" Yuuri said happily. "Come on, Wolfram," he grinned, "we're going to get to know each other…again."

* * *

Yozak stepped into a thicket and changed his clothes. He thought about wearing the light pink and white dress with the long, red wig. After all, that disguise had saved his life more than a few times. But, instead, he chose to put the farmer's outfit on. He'd worn it to the border taverns before. So, he'd probably blend in as a regular customer.

Yozak followed the fresh hoof prints with a pretty good idea of which tavern the men would be drinking at today. The nearest one, The Salty Dog, was on the Mazoku side and had not only Mazoku but human customers. So, either way, he'd be good.

Yozak tied up his horse around back after slipping the owner's son a coin to keep an eye on him. He explained to the teen that he didn't want his "wife" to know that he'd gone drinking. The guy shook his head in understanding. Apparently, this kind of thing happened a lot. But, in reality, Yozak did it to keep the men he was following from recognizing his horse. All it would take would be to have one silly mistake like that and, then, he'd have five men after him pretty quickly.

It was dimly lit inside and smelled like an old cellar. The door to The Salty Dog opened and closed quickly with a wooden groan. Most of the patrons didn't bother to look up. They were concentrating on their card games, drinking, and conversations. Two guys in the back were shooting dice and swearing loudly at each win and loss. Yozak the farmer ordered a beer after flirting with the pretty pink-haired barmaid—who seemed to like him a little too much—and found a rickety table with water ring stains that was within earshot of the men he was following. Just as they were the other day, two were playing cards and the other three were drinking.

"I hate the 'waiting' part," the elder complained. He took a sip of beer and stared at the wall.

"Agreed. This is getting tiresome. And, where's my next beer, by the way?" the fat nosed one griped, sticking his over-sized schnoz into the air—as though that would catch the pretty barmaid's attention and give him his drink.

Yozak noticed that the stubble-faced man was clean shaven today, but still had that arrogant "boss" attitude that told everyone he was still calling the shots. "Look, you assholes, just sit and wait. When we know what's going on, we will."

"Okay," both card players sighed. The first one scratched his head a little and his blond wig moved. That made his partner's eyes bulge. "Stop that," he whispered darkly, "because you're going to get us noticed." He got a sharp nod and that was the end of it.

Two beers later for the group, the barmaid came back with more drinks. But, this time, she made a return trip with a bundle wrapped in leather and twine. She placed it on the table in front of the boss. "Hello again," she said and pulled pink hair back behind her ears as she sat down with them.

"You!" the boss exclaimed. "Wow, I wouldn't have guessed… You look so _different_ than before."

Her response was a thin smile. This was exactly what she wanted to hear.

Yozak took a long swig of beer. _That was the girl I just spoke to!_ _And she's a pretty little thing as well. _He sighed to himself._ So, she uses disguises, too._ His eyes darted at her and then back to his drink. _It is a woman. I can tell by the shape of her hands, no Adam's Apple, and the shape of her hips. It seems, from listening to the boss over there, that her appearance has changed from the last time he saw her. So, she's just changed her hair and clothes…maybe has makeup on…_

"I have what I think you've been looking for—a gift to help you on your way and a message from my brother."

_Not working alone…_ He took another swig of beer.

With understanding, the boss took the leather and twine bundle and the small envelope sealed with wax.

"This will help you finish the job you were paid for. You'll see that the 'arrangements' have changed a bit, but you will all profit by it. After that, we can strike up new negotiations."

"That will be fine with us," the boss said, trying to sound pleasant and well mannered . But, in reality, he only sounded disingenuous and condescending.

"Good," she smiled back. "But if you have any problems…" she quirked an eyebrow at him, "…then we've never had this conversation. But, then again, that's why we prefer working with professionals."

Yozak frowned and took another sip.

With that, the girl stood up, gave a cute curtsey and said girlishly, "Good day to ya." She began gathering up goblets from the table to be washed.

The boss opened the letter and began to read while the others scanned the room to see if anyone else was watching. Yozak used that as an opportunity to stand up and take his leave. And he wasn't that surprised to notice that the pink-haired girl only placed the goblets on the bar. She didn't take them in the back to be washed.

Yozak glanced at the men behind him and then heard the door open again. He looked up to the heavens and cursed himself. He should have thought of this earlier. Of course, all six of them weren't going to travel together. What was he thinking? _Well actually_, he reflected, _I was thinking of getting to know the barmaid when I thought she was only a barmaid…_

He began to follow, holding the door open for himself. The girl with the pink hair was already clomping down the road on a black horse. The horse took the first trail that meandered to the northeast. He could see the tail swishing at flies as it ambled away. Pretending to walk off while searching his pockets for something—mostly to look casual and buy himself more time—he turned his eyes back to the table with the men who were all standing up now. They were eager to leave. And Yozak made his way around the tavern to the back where his horse was tied. He had only one choice now. But who should he follow?

* * *

Yuuri led Wolfram through the gardens. It was just the two of them now—alone. He wanted to have a chat with the younger Wolfram in the hopes that they could have the chance to really get to know each other.

"What happened here?" Wolfram asked, his hair whipped by the wind. The high school looking Wolfram pointed to the flower bed where his mother usually planted row upon row of Beautiful Wolfram. He was used to the yellow flowers greeting him back—even if their name was stupid. Now, all he saw were the flowers that represented his brothers. He frowned at that.

"She didn't forget you," Yuuri said with a smile.

Wolfram cocked his head to the side. "You know all about my mother's flowers, huh?"

"Yes, and she did plant a lot of them."

"So, what happened?" Wolfram knelt down and inspected. There was not a single yellow flower among them. There were, however, large patches of dirt where a lot of brownish stems were coming up.

"I picked them all…"

Green eyes looked confused.

"…For you, that is…"

A boyish smile played on Wolfram's lips. "For me, huh?"

Yuuri turned a pinkish color that Wolfram also noticed. "I had to do it."

"Had…to?" The "Wolfram echo" was soft now and slightly amused.

"Umm…yes…" The double black had to work not to stammer. And, deep inside of him, he could feel the other self, the other maou, amused as well. He was almost laughing. Yuuri told him to stop it.

"It was necessary…"

"Oh…it was?" Wolfram came back in a totally charming voice that Yuuri never knew that he had. And, for some reason, the double black's heart was beating a little hard. There was a strange silence between them, too, that he was not familiar with.

"It…It was necessary because… we needed it as part of your antidote to the arrow poison."

At that, the amused emerald eyes turned to a dull green. "I see," Wolfram said but in a totally different tone. Rather, it was an _indifferent_ tone. Yuuri wasn't used to that, either. The whole conversation felt odd.

"Let's go this way," the double black said.

The blond merely shrugged and strolled along, taking everything in. "This place looks right…and wrong at the same time." He pointed to the rose-covered bowers. "Those are thicker than I remember yesterday."

_Your "yesterday" was years and years ago, Wolfram_, the double black thought sourly.

"And the grass is much greener. We've been having a drought. How can it be so green now?"

"Faeries?" Yuuri joked.

"Endangered…along with elves," Wolfram shot back. "You might as well just say a dragon peed over everything and made it all green over night." He laughed maliciously. His grin was too wide.

_Immature_, Yuuri thought, _and I'm getting tired of it pretty quickly._

"Heika?" Wolfram said. He noticed the sour look. He had promised his brother that he'd do his best to get along. And, whenever possible, Wolfram liked to keep his promises to his big brother.

"I told you to call me 'Yuuri,' because you always do."

"Always…?" He shook his head as though trying to clear it. "Okay, _Yuuri_," Wolfram said and grabbed the double black by the hand—pulling him into the recess of one of the rose bowers that was so thick with flowers that Yuuri saw it as more of a cave than a bower. There was a little stone bench in there and the two of them sat down. There was the pleasant, slightly citrus scent coming from the white roses. The breeze caught the flowers and leaves—giving an unusual shade that swayed to and fro.

"What is it?" Yuuri asked, totally confused.

"Look," Wolfram said, pointing to a little group walking in the rose garden, too, but much further off.

"Eh?" he squinted at the figures. "Oh, that's Murata and the three girls are the daughters of the local mayor. Gwendal has invited the mayor over to sign some documents. Apparently, the locals want to have a festival and they need our permission."

"I think they are all quite nice looking," Wolfram said and his eyes took on a certain glow. "_Very_ nice."

Yuuri shot his eyes at Wolfram. "Nice?" he parroted. "Eh?" Then dark eyes widened. _Oh, no!_ Yuuri thought, covering his face with a hand. _His hormones have kicked in!_

Wolfram straightened his cadet coat down with his hands. "I think we should both go over to greet them," he said in a tone that Yuuri definitely didn't like. _I had no idea that Wolfram could be like this! I've seen him gruff, shy, concerned, and angry—mostly angry--but, I've never seen him attracted to anyone. And I can't believe we're having this conversation!_

"Ummm… Well, Wolfram…?" _Let's see… How do I say this?_ "Well…you have met Murata. In fact, you've been around him, off and on, for a little over three years now." Yuuri pointed to the guy in the black clothes. The design wasn't that different from what Yuuri wore.

Green eyes narrowed in concentration. "Gwendal told me that, too. He said I've been sick and that I don't remember things well."

"Yes, that's true," Yuuri agreed with a nod and a widening smile. "We're trying to get you well again so that…"

"I can remember everything?"

That was answered with another nod.

"Speaking of 'remember,' Wolfram began, and leaned his head charmingly to one side, "there's a lot that I don't. And that's unfortunate. But, I have been filled in a bit…"

"By Gwendal. You just said that."

"Yes, and I've heard some things from listening to the maids as well."

Yuuri held his breath at that. "What…exactly…have you heard…?" He was really afraid to ask. Some of the castle gossip could be vicious. He'd just learned that. And those uncomfortable feelings don't go away easily.

Wolfram's face smiled at him. "There are a few things that I do know about you…and me."

Another wide-eyed look confirmed it all in the blond's mind. "Then, it is true," Wolfram said with a slightly flirtatious tone to it. "We are engaged."

"Oh, is that all?" Yuuri said with relief. The tone seemed to say, "It means nothing to me." Then, he caught himself, "NO! No, don't get upset with me about that." He could just imagine himself being hit with a fireball and angry words being shouted all over the garden.

The blond just blinked back, a little confused.

_Eh? He's not mad? O-k-a-y…_

Yuuri looked down at the ground. He shifted the dirt with his feet a little. "Our engagement was…an accident. I'm really sorry about that."

He was afraid to look. He was afraid of what Wolfram's expression might be. He was imagining all kinds of heartbreaking reactions.

"Oh, I see!" Wolfram said and gave him a hearty slap on the back. "Don't worry about it."

"What do you mean?" Yuuri said back, incredulous.

"These kinds of aristocratic marriages happen all the time."

Yuuri's jaw dropped. This was not what he expected.

"No one actually expects you to be in love with me. Actually, 'love' isn't a requirement at all. It's mostly political. And, by the time we set the date of the marriage, things may change and you'll be married off to someone else."

Yuuri just couldn't believe his ears. This was Wolfram, after all, telling him all of this. And, it felt a little bit lonely.

"And, look at me, I'm only a cadet," Wolfram continued. "I can't marry a maou right now. I need to work my way up. I have to prove myself in battle. My mother's not the maou anymore. So, there's that pressure to be worthy enough to actually marry someone as high ranking as you."

"Oh, I understand," Yuuri said, but didn't want to.

Wolfram watched the double black and felt a little sorry for him. Gwendal said that he was from another world. So, most likely, this new maou was in the dark and didn't know much. He'd have to fill him in.

"For example," Wolfram began, "I once knew a woman named Julia. She had a marriage arranged for her, too. She accepted it as the duty that was required of her. And she went—as we all do into these things—forward as it was her duty. With most engagements, there's a cheerful reliance on the part of one fiancé and the protective disposition from the other."

"Julia…" Yuuri said, and felt melancholy at just mentioning her. _So, that was what it was like for her. And poor Conrad…_

There was a sudden movement at his shoulder. He wasn't prepared for it. Wolfram leaned in. His emerald eyes close to Yuuri's. Their lips close, almost touching.

"Wa-! Wait!" Yuuri said, leaning away only to hear Wolfram's voice laughing at him. It was a much deeper version of the baby Wolfram laugh. It was still musical. The pattern of notes still fit and the beautiful face matched it.

"What was that for?" Yuuri said back, frowning hard. His heart was beating hard now and he felt flush, foolish.

"Why are you so worried?" the blond said back, vastly amused. "You act like we were paired as a love match." He leaned in again to see stern black eyes staring back at him.

Then, Wolfram's voice became sincere. "You don't love me. And there's no part of you that does."

Yuuri froze at the words. Shocked.

"I can see it in your eyes." The blond leaned his head to one side. "You're afraid of me."

"No, Wolfram. That's not true. You just don't understand."

The blond laughed at him again and relaxed a little on the stone bench. He crossed his legs casually.

"Look, this is just a political arrangement for now. And that's all." He tossed his blond hair out of his eyes. "By the time we can actually get around to the wedding ceremony, things may have changed."

He saw a doubtful look in Yuuri's eyes.

"Relax," Wolfram said almost cheerfully, "nothing's going to happen right away." Yuuri frowned again when he saw Wolfram's gaze travel casually to Murata and the three girls. They had spread a blanket on the grass and were eating a picnic lunch. Murata, as usual, was being utterly charming to the girls. Their giggles floated on the wind.

Wolfram's mind wandered with a smile tugging at his lips.

"'_Right away'_… I think…you were saying," Yuuri emphasized the words, trying to get the blond off of cloud nine. Briefly, he considered elbowing him.

"Oh, yes," Wolfram replied with a nod. "Besides," he looked at Yuuri again, "I really hate being tied down to one person. I'm only 73." Wolfram scratched his head thoughtfully. "I'm sure there's someone else out there better for you anyway."

Yuuri's jaw dropped at that. _Is he…dumping me? I've got a handsome blond prince who has a white horse…and I'm being dumped by him?_

"Oh, don't feel bad about it," Wolfram said, seeing Yuuri's reaction. Maybe he was just a little too honest with the new maou. "It's not you. It's me…really!"

"Thanks, Wolfram," Yuuri frowned. _Why am I annoyed? I should be happy. I've wanted this attitude form Wolfram the whole time. But, now…_

"Look," the blond continued sheepishly, "we might actually get married in the future after all. It could still happen. It's possible."

Yuuri sighed. That thought didn't make him feel any better, either.

"And, if it does," Wolfram went on, "you are aware that…even if you don't desire me…you know you have to…consummate the marriage. Right?"

Yuuri's face went pink at that. He actually felt heat coming up his face. He tried to push away the image of them in bed together on their wedding night—sans clothes. Yuuri tried to stop it, but couldn't. He was sure that Wolfram could make some delicious sounds when his neck was kissed. _What am I thinking? We're both guys! This is never going to happen!_

_He's so cute when he blushes_, the blond thought while looking at the ground. Then, he decided to push the envelope a little. "You have to or the marriage can be annulled at any point by a vote of the aristocrats." Wolfram leaned his head handsomely to one side again. "And I promise that, on our wedding night, I'll be gentle with you."

There was a deeper pink that Wolfram didn't think was possible. The "tomato look" was even cuter.

_Okay, it's time to stop this before I go too far. What will it take to ease his mind?_ The blond thought to himself. _Fine, I'll try this._ "And, after the wedding night, you can move your concubines into the castle and I'll move mine in as well. Then, we'll both be happy."

"C-Concubines?" Yuuri's breath caught at the thought of it.

"Well…yes," Wolfram said, blinking.

Yuuri had a flash of memory. The eight year old looking Wolfram had met his father's concubine by accident. He was furious about it. He was yelling and Yuuri had, since then, wished that there was some way to erase that memory—to take away the pain that it caused.

"Didn't…" _Maybe I shouldn't bring this up. No, I have to… We are technically "engaged," so I have the right._ "Didn't your father have a…concubine in the castle? So, I thought you hated them," Yuuri said timidly. He was kicking himself the whole time, but he really wanted to know.

Wolfram scratched his nose a little at the thought. "You found out about that, huh?" He shrugged but his emerald eyes grew hard. Yuuri could see it. "After a time, Gwendal convinced me that these things happen. It's just best to accept them." He scratched his nose again and saw the pitying expression on the maou's face. He looked away for a second. "Besides, Yuuri, look at me."

"What?"

The blond smiled thinly at Yuuri. "No, really…look at me."

Yuuri shrugged. He was clueless. "Well, Wolfram… You are very handsome." He glanced up at the flowers hanging overhead and said, "Probably the most handsome person I've ever met." Releasing the breath that he didn't know he was holding, Yuuri looked to the blond and saw that Wolfram had forced a smile on his face. _But, I guess, everyone tells you that. So, it's nothing new, huh? But you're more than looks…much more._

"My dear maou, if you haven't noticed… Your fiancé is a male. The last time I checked, men can't give birth. So, of course, after a year or two of marriage you will be getting these little hints dropped from your administrator and advisors that you need an heir."

Yuuri's eyes widened at that.

"You'll have to sleep with a woman sometime to get that heir. Probably, a couple of times…" Then Wolfram straightened up a little, trying to get comfortable on the stone bench. They had been sitting there awhile. "Of course, historically, there have been maous who have ordered their prince consorts to impregnate their concubines."

_Historically? Why hadn't Günter mentioned this?_ Then, he had a mental flash of the overly fawning, melodramatic tutor and historian hugging him_. That explains it._

Without even realizing it, Yuuri was shaking his head "no" at the thought. Wolfram smiled a genuine smile at that.

"Legally speaking, if the mou has a prince consort, then any child born to their concubines will automatically become the heirs to the throne."

Yuuri cast a sincere glance into emerald eyes. "If I did that, I would be cheating on you." For a brief second, he thought he saw something that reminded him of a shield reflected back in the blond's set face. He pushed his point further. "And if you did that, you would be cheating on me."

"Love again?" Wolfram laughed, but this time with much less mirth, and put a friendly arm on Yuuri's shoulder. "In time, you would really have no other choice." He leaned in closer and Yuuri felt himself sweat a little. "You won't be happy with me…deep down…and, believe it or not…I have a temper."

With that, Yuuri started to snicker. He covered his mouth with his hand and tried to push it back. It was harder to do now because he could see a blond looking more than just a little peeved. He was getting angry and took his arm back from around Yuuri's shoulder.

"Thanks for the laugh, Wolfram, I needed it."

"Good," Wolfram said, turning away with a slightly devilish look on his face. "Then, I would like you to do something for me."

"And what would that be?"

"I want to go over there," he pointed to Murata and their girls, "and visit with them. So, introduce me."

"Wait! What?" Yuuri said, not believing his ears again.

"I said that I want you to introduce me to them."

"Why?" Yuuri said, feeling more than just a pang of something and he wasn't about to put a name to the feeling just yet.

Wolfram smirked back at Yuuri. "Because I like pretty faces and they're all really beautiful—including that Murata. He's kind of human-looking, though. Oh, sorry. You're half human. No offence." He said the part offhandedly.

Yuuri shot a glare. "None taken."

"Good!" Wolfram brightened, not noticing the glare. "And, don't worry. He's too high ranking to be a future concubine."

"Men, too!" Yuuri's jaw dropped. "Men are pointless. They can't have babies."

"Oh, that's right! The maids say you discriminate against men." The blond doubled up his fist and smacked it into his palm. Yes, he saw it now. "That's why you don't want me. I'm a guy." He grinned, proud of himself for making the connection. "Anyway…going back to the handsome one in black… They say that he is the Great Sage. So, he must know a few things," blond eyebrows wiggled, "from his previous lives."

"Ew!" Yuuri said, "Murata Ken?" _Hormones! Hormones! Do they make you act stupid as well?! This is not my Wolfram! Ugh!_

"They say he _remembers it all_." The blond grinned toothily. "The girls look good, too. So, I want you to introduce me. I can handle the rest from there. It's only proper." Wolfram looked like he was planning the strategy to a baseball game. All he needed was a clipboard and a pencil to jot things down.

Yuuri folded his arms and stared back at Wolfram defiantly. He could feel himself smolder. This was not what he meant when he said that he wanted to get to know the blond all over again. This was not it at all!

* * *


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Wolfram took Yuuri by the hand and led him away. He knew where to go next and what to do, but he also needed the new maou's cooperation. _This will be easy enough,_ he thought. He also noted, with a glow of pride, that Yuri wasn't holding his hand limply. He was squeezing it back.

They approached the flowerbed and stopped.

"This is where you wanted to take me?"

"This plan usually works," Wolfram said with a devious smirk. "Obviously, you know nothing about courting anyone. This morning, Gwendal told me that you didn't know much about our customs. And, I can believe that. You're so bad, it's embarrassing. So, I'll just have to tutor you." The blond smiled at him. But Yuuri wasn't exactly thrilled about this conversation. And this "courting" business was starting to make him feel something again that he didn't like. He frowned.

The blond straightened up his cadet's uniform and flipped his hair back. "You don't have to be like that. Just listen to me, right?"

A voice floated in from the distance. "Wolfie! Oh, Wolfie!"

He let his blond head droop. "Mother," he sighed under his breath. He straightened up and rolled his eyes. Yuuri couldn't help, now, but smirk.

Cecile, wearing a red dress and matching sunhat, came walking up to them on Gwendal's arm. Yuuri noted, with some surprise now, that Wolfram's demeanor had totally changed. He withdrew into himself, stood stiffly, and had a blank look on his face. He blinked mildly at the pair approaching them.

"It's so good to see you out here in the fresh air, Wolfie!" Her eyes seemed to be searching her child for some sign of illness. Seeing none, she brightened. Her green eyes turned to the double black. "Heika! How kind of you to be spending time with your fiancé." Her smile sparkled. "You're both so handsome. I could just eat you up."

Wolfram frowned and stared at the ground awkwardly. "Mother," he said under his breath again. He kicked the dirt a little.

"Oh, how cute! You're embarrassed. Now, remember, you need to smile more often or you'll get another wrinkle like Gwendal."

Both Gwendal and Wolfram gave each other glances that said "I wish she'd just shut up for once." Then, seeing each other's faces, the brothers shared a private smile between them. Yuuri noticed that Gwendal seemed relieved. Being honest with himself, Yuuri admitted that he felt the same way. His eyes turned to Wolfram again, much happier than before. _This is the Wolfram that I know. This is the stricter and almost shy person that I'm used to sleeping with._ His eyes widened at the thought. _No, I mean…we always sleep together. We just don't SLEEP TOGETHER. _He pictured a pink nightgowned Wolfram in his arms and then blocked out the image in his head_. And, I'm not sure why I'm thinking about this in the first place._

"Well, we must be going," Gwendal said in his usual, bored tone, "because I have a mountain of paperwork to do." He cast a wiggly eyebrow at Yuuri, who only shrugged back with a sheepish grin from ear to ear.

Once they were gone, Wolfram's posture slouched a bit. His green eyes took on an impish slant and he grabbed Yuuri by the shoulders. "Right! Back to what we were doing."

_Wait! No, I had the old Wolfram back. No… I don't want it to change again._

For a second, Yuuri desperately needed to smack his head against something.

"Here we go," Wolfram said and scanned the flower bed. "Usually, I prefer the flowers named after me. But, as there _aren't_ any…" He cast an almost sexy grin at Yuuri, who visibly jumped at the attention. A dark chuckle followed. "We'll just have to go with Conrad." The blond pointed to the blue flowers—Conrad Stands Upon the Earth. "You'll need five of those."

"I'm going to feel stupid walking around with flowers in my hands."

"Just do it," the blond said back with arms crossed. "And, as your official fiancé, save the last one of those for me."

"And just _why_ am I doing this?" the double black asked, suspicious.

"Because you love me with all your heart," came the reply dripping with sarcasm. A sly grin followed. He was enjoying himself too much.

_Love?_ Yuuri briefly considered walking away with a scowl on his face. His pride told him to do that.

"Fine! Fine!" Wolfram griped in a pouty voice, "You owe me because I made you laugh. Now, pay attention. I'm going to teach you something of cultural significance." He leaned in closer to Yuuri, searching dark eyes for that spark of agreement, and said gently, "You are interested in our culture. Right?"

The double black felt something inside tug at him when Wolfram leaned in close. He tried to ignore it. But, forgetting it—letting go of it—almost hurt. Still, that didn't mean that he was happy with the blond at all.

Yuuri went down on one knee and picked five flowers that he thought were quite suitable. But, the whole time, he kept looking up and over his shoulder at Wolfram with a sour expression on his face.

"Now, the next step in courting is the greeting part," Wolfram said impishly, walking at a casual pace next to Yuuri with his hands in his pockets. "As the higher ranking one and the fact that you have met them already, you must do the introductions."

"I know how to do that," he returned followed by an impatient sigh.

"Good," Wolfram replied but gave him a sharp look out of the corner of his eye anyway. "Remember to introduce the higher ranking person to the lower ranking person—or, in this case, _persons_."

_Higher? Lower?_ Yuuri got a devilish grin at the thought. He turned his head and said, "Doesn't the Great Sage outrank you?" He liked making that point because, in Yuuri's mind at least, Murata was his friend from school first and the Great Sage second. But, if Wolfram was going to be picky…

"True. But, he remembers me and I don't remember him. So, it would be awkward. Plus, he's with the girls. And, I've never met them, either. Therefore, introduce me to them."

"Fine, fine," Yuuri said with another shrug. "But, I still feel stupid with the flowers."

They walked on a little and could see Murata Ken with the three girls sitting on a blanket. They were enjoying their drinks and a plate of sandwiches. From the angular way they were cut and arranged on the plate, Yuuri had guessed that Sangria had made the sandwiches today. Her sandwiches were especially good.

Yuuri also noticed that Wolfram was walking closer to his side now—a lot closer than usual. He began to sweat.

"Now, when you are interested in someone, you can lean up against them a little," Wolfram said smugly. "If they don't move away, they're okay with the contact. That means that you can try, a little later on, putting a hand on top of his or her hand."

"His?" Yuuri said hollowly. Now, he wasn't enjoying this lesson at all.

"Oh, sorry," Wolfram apologized with a little impatience. "I forgot."

_That's not the only thing you've forgotten,_ Yuuri thought dryly.

"Engage in only light conversation," Wolfram continued, "and stay away from the subjects of money, religion, and mating."

Deciding to needle Wolfram a little more, Yuuri said, "Isn't 'mating' your whole point?"

He stopped. Yuuri stopped too, wondering what the problem was. Wolfram had turned pink and was visibly shrinking back. "What kind of immoral question is that? Are you implying something?"

Emerald eyes had a fire in them that Yuuri easily recognized.

"Uh, no!" Yuuri said, surprised that Wolfram would suddenly come across as a prude. "I'm not calling you…easy."

Wolfram's jaw dropped at the last word. He couldn't believe what his ears were clearly telling him. "We're just _meeting_ them." The blond sighed impatiently. _What an idiot!_ "I'll teach you how to find a concubine at another time." They resumed their walk, which felt more like a march now that the blond was insulted.

"Oi, Wolfram! _You_ know how to do that?" Yuuri shot back, astounded. He was struggling to keep up.

Wolfram glanced sideways as he went. He noticed the awkward way, trudging through the grass, Yuuri was trying to keep up and decided to let go of his anger—no "irritation"—after all. "I don't have one myself. But, you'd be surprised what you can learn in the library when your tutors aren't looking," the blond said, giving him an elbow to the ribs, "the fourth maou left some explicit instructions on how to find one of the proper rank." He winked and Yuuri felt bile rise up in his throat.

The blond saw the expression and laughed just a little. It was hard for him to stay mad at the new mou for very long for some odd reason that he couldn't fathom. Wolfram linked arms with Yuuri as they went.

"Don't worry, Yuuri-Heka, I'll take care of you."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

* * *

"I'm b-a-c-k," said the girl called out tiredly. She had just stabled her horse and circled around the front. She reached a hand up, grabbed a fist-full of pink wig and ripped it off her head as she entered the front door of the gabled two story home with the workshop and blacksmith detached and further off to the southeast.

Yozak, still in disguise, watched the house from the road. His horse was looking longingly at a delicious patch of thick, green grass and was, quickly, nibbling his way in that direction.

Yozak had only caught a glimpse of the retreating form. But, he could see mousy brown hair that had been tied back and flattened to fit under the wig. He closed his eyes briefly to remember the face. After all, he had flirted with her and she seemed to like it. The color of her eyes could be fake, too. But, not the shape of them. Round eyes that slanted slightly in the corners when she smiled. Thin eyebrows. She had a heart-shaped face and a slightly sharp nose, too. Medium sized frame and huge, wide… He coughed into his fist slightly in a Gwendal-ish fashion when he remembered her breasts. But, there had been something, too. Yes, there was a very small tattoo that was peeking out from the sleeve of her left shoulder. That's what they'd joked about. It was in the shape of a soldier's shield with an "X" on it in green. Her face had flushed when he'd pointed it out. And, then she said that she'd been drinking and lost a bet with a customer.

Slowly, Yozak turned his horse around. He hoped that he could find his way back to the main road before...

There was a clap of thunder from way off.

He stared up, watching low hanging clouds churning from up above. Thick black clouds moved in and pushed out the sun.

Yozak scratched his head in thought as his horse headed up towards the main road. Now, he knew where the girl lived and that she wasn't alone in the house. But, there were other things he needed to find out, though, and soon. There was another clap of thunder. _With the rain coming, I guess, I'd better leave. Standing out in the rain will get me noticed for certain. _What he also needed to do, now, was report back on the five with the "gift" given to them by the barmaid. Some part of him really wanted to know exactly what the note said, too. What he was certain of, without even seeing it, was that the package wrapped up and given as a present to the assassins was another quiver of painted arrows.

Another clap of thunder came from above and Yozak spurred his horse onward.

Heading in his direction was a workhorse and cart driven by a red freckled teenage boy. His hair didn't seem to match the freckles, though, but clashed with them. The dull, hazel eyes showed exactly how much fun he was having with his task—bringing a load of dung to the fields. Crappy job.

"Excuse me," farmer Yozak said with a friendly wave.

"Huh?" The teen driver saw the farmer and drew rein sharply. He didn't see strangers in this neck of the woods. So, naturally, he was a little suspicious.

"Umm…Hi, there!" he said to the frowning face. I sell apples and I was just wondering of you or anyone around here would be interested in buying a few bushels next month."

"Oh, a salesman," the teen said, looking bored all over again. "Look, there's a peach orchard just down the road. So, I guess, we'll probably get fruit from them. Though, I suppose, people could want apples, too." He thought out loud.

Yozak's smile tightened slightly._ Oh, this kid's got a slug for a brain. Sheesh! _"Yes, well," farmer Yozak said, gritting his teeth to smile wider, "would your family be interested?"

"Nah, most of my family's not even in these parts. I'm working a job for the local merchant, a cousin of mine, in town until his broken arm heals. And, today, my job is…" He motioned to the putrid smelling cowplop in the cart behind him.

"Oh, I see…" Yozak said, intentionally making his smile dim a little. "Then, how about the people around here? That house, for instance." He pointed to the gabled house with the blacksmith's shop. It was in easy view of the road.

"Oh, them? The Meigers?" The teen looked left and right—making sure that no one saw them talking. There was nothing—and no one—on the road or in the fields. So, he felt relatively safe. "They were once high up—really high up in the royal courts around 40 or 50 years ago. Then, something happened. I'm not sure what because no one around here wants to tell me." The guy laughed and pulled back on the reins when the horse wanted to slowly start rolling forward. It came to an abrupt halt again. "You know, it's one of those secrets that everybody in town knows but won't say."

Farmer Yozak shot him a curious grin. "Really now?" He cocked his head sideways. "I wonder what stops people from talking."

"Yeah, well, you'd keep your mouth shut, too, if you knew what they do. What their family business is…"

"They seem to own land—a lot of it, too. Nice, large home. I'd say they look like gentleman farmers with," he craned his neck at the fields, "maybe blacksmithing and a little small animal husbandry."

The teen laughed a dorky, huffy laugh. "That's what it _appears_ to be, huh?" His shoulders slumped forward with the next huffy sound that escaped him.

"Okay," Yozak said, "so everyone fears them because of blacksmithing?" His eyes twinkled in mischief.

"_Weapons_," the teen said in a raspy whisper. "They make the very best…for the very best. If ya know what I mean." Then, he looked around again. "I can't say that I know them all personally. I don't want to and everybody else feels the same way. Only the merchants like the color of their gold. But, they don't want them hanging around their shops or nothin'. So, many times, they have things delivered."

"Oh, well… it appears to be a big family. So, delivery would be convenient," Yozak said, fishing for information.

"Nope, again. It's just a bunch of hired hands in the autumn who do everything in the fields. There's the brother—I haven't seen him for weeks and weeks on end. And there's the sister. She's very pretty. But, she's also bad news, too. She'd probably snap her bridegroom's neck on the wedding night just to get at his wallet."

"Oh, that type, eh?"

"Easily. Their father died about six months back. His bones are in the graveyard now. So, it's just the brother, sister, and a hand full of servants, right now. But the one that seems to be their blacksmith is especially tough. Avoid him."

Yozak cursed the skies when it let out another clap. He really wanted to ask more questions.

"Well, I'd best be goin'," the teen grumbled, scanning the skies. Then, he looked at Yozak sincerely and said, "And I'd appreciate it if you'd keep all this to yourself. Gossipers, especially when it comes to the Meiger family, tend to meet up with trouble." Then, he winked at Yozak. "But, as I'm leaving for home in two weeks, I feel I can pretty much say what I think."

"Good luck," Yozak said as the first drop of rain fell on his nose—washing some of the dirt off. Now, it really was time to go. "I'd better head for that inn in town."

The teen nodded. "Ride hard and you'll be there in a few minutes. Good day."

Yozak gave a polite little bow, and started riding. The rains looked like they'd start falling fairly soon. And that would certainly delay any of the homing pigeons that he might send. He would have to wait until the rains let up. And that wasn't good.

* * *

The three young ladies and Murata were sitting and chatting quietly on the red and black checkered cloth. There was a plate of sandwiches between them.

The three sisters were Adelade, her twin sister Adelina, and their younger sister, Gracelynn.

Murata leaned back a little and flashed the girls his trademark smile. _Twins! Identical, blond, pretty, and slightly ditzy._ This was every guy's fantasy. The younger sister, brunette and sweet natured, didn't appeal to him in the slightest. She was too young for him. Then again, when Murata really thought about it, just about everyone was too young for him. But The Great Sage reminded himself that in this body, Murata was relatively young and needed to enjoy life occasionally. He'd need to make a lot of memories to reflect back on because, he knew from experience, that he'd do just that once he was settled down and married for over fifty years—again.

_Twins! They are both so cute, too_, he reflected in a pervy fashion that seemed perfectly fine with him.

"Excuse us," Yuuri said, feeling like he was barging in—which he was. "Someone," and he glanced at Wolfram, "was telling me to come by and say hello."

"Maou!" all three girls exclaimed at once.

Murata gave both guys a crooked smile and folded his arms. This was unexpected, but he was also vastly amused at watching a totally self-important young Wolfram and a slightly blushing Yuuri standing there with blue flowers. Yes, it was funny. He pushed his glasses up on his nose a little and said, "Nice bouquet, Shibuya."

Yuuri almost flinched at that. _Okay, so it wasn't his idea,_ Murata reflected, turning his head to the other_. So, it has to be…Wolfram's idea. Hmmm… _He glanced at Wolfram who was giving him a very direct stare_. _

_And why, _Murata thought_, does it look like he's undressing me with his eyes? _

To test his theory, he winked and Wolfram turned away awkwardly.

_This could be…a little bit…fun._

* * *


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Wolfram gave Yuuri a slight nudge.

"I-I hope you like these." The double black began to hand out flowers to the girls. They glanced at each other and grinned broadly. The maou was giving them flowers!

Yuuri watched their reactions and smiled a little inwardly. This was exactly the reaction that Wolfram had planned. And, yes, it worked. That emerald-eyed Mazoku could be sneaky when he wanted to be.

Behind Yuuri and Wolfram there was a sudden gust of wind that became a gale. The girls felt the blast of wind and had to hold onto their long skirts to keep them from flying up. Sadly, they were also getting a breeze down the tops of their dresses, pulling the fabric away to show just how much cleavage the three sisters actually had. And they were big girls! Murata sat back and enjoyed the show—doing absolutely nothing to help them because he knew he'd be slapped hard if he tried. And he didn't feel like getting engaged to three girls at once.

Yuuri was handing out the third blue flower when it happened. He fisted the stem of the flower that he was giving Gracelynn. And, in the blast, he noted that the brunette girl was well endowed, indeed.

Young Wolfram turned back to see where the blast of air was coming from. He blinked hard because he saw a shining gold light and what looked like two figures inside of it—one a blond and one with dark hair. The dark one was transparent, only a faint profile. But the blond one was becoming solid and looked like…_him_. _How?_ Young Wolfram reached out a hand to touch the scowling face. Then, just as quickly, it disappeared.

Once the gale had blown past, the sisters were busy adjusting their clothing and complaining among themselves about the wind and how unexpected it was. Murata was smirking and taking another sandwich off of the plate before it fell. Yuuri finished delivering his flower to Gracelynn, who tucked the flower behind her right ear. And Wolfram was dead silent.

"Wolfram?" Yuuri said, looking at him and feeling worried. "Are you okay?"

"No…I just saw…" He blinked at the spot where he saw something strange. His face went blank. _Was it a dream? Was it a vision? Maybe, I'm…_

"If you're feeling bad, Wolfram, I'll take you back into the castle," Yuuri said with a little edge in his voice.

_Oh, no you don't!_ Wolfram thought_. I went through too much to get to this point. You're just wimping out._

"I'm fine," Wolfram replied smoothly.

"Then, please, join us." Gracelynn gestured to an empty spot beside her.

"Okay," Yuuri said and got a glare from Wolfram. "Oh, yes. Where are my manners?"

_Yes, where are they_? Wolfram thought tartly.

"Wolfram von Bielefeld, third son of Cecilie von Spitzbert," he cast his eyes to the blond who seemed to radiate self-confidence, which really annoyed the double black to no end, "this is The Great Sage, Murata Ken."

Murata cocked his head and raised a delicate eyebrow for a second and then reflected upon the situation further. He'd heard about the incident in the lab. And, now, Wolfram looked young—a little too young. He'd heard that Wolfram only remembered events from the age that he happened to be. So, obviously, he must have heard of The Great Sage, but had never met him in person. Still, it felt odd. Then again, the youthful face of Wolfram was strange, too. But, he had to admit to himself, it was a beautiful face. And it seemed to be watching him with glittering, emerald eyes. _And he likes me_, Murata thought.

Murata gave a sagely "nod" at the blond who returned it in the same fashion.

The double black gestured toward the girls. "And we have our local mayor's three daughters: Gracelynn, and…" Then, his mind went blank. He was awful with names! And, in Japan, forgetting a person's name could be a huge offence. He started to sweatdrop.

"I heard a rumor," Wolfram jumped in slyly, "that their names are Adelade and Adelina."

The girls nodded with sparkling smiles. Their blue eyes turned up with adoration.

_Rescued by Wolfram!_ That was nothing new. But, in this case, it was quite a relief. Yuuri tried not to look relieved, though. He took their invitation and sat down instead.

"And it is my extreme pleasure," Wolfram said in a throaty, sexy voice that made the girls melt, Murata smirk, and Yuuri glare, "to meet your acquaintance."

_He's said that line so often…_ Yuuri fumed to himself. His dark eyes narrowed. Murata bowed his head while pushing up his glasses farther up his nose to hide his smile.

Sitting around the edge of the blanket, Adelade and Adelina (and honestly, Murata couldn't tell which was which, though it didn't really matter) were side by side with Murata on the left end. On the other side of Murata was Gracelynn. So, sitting down, Wolfram had Gracelynn to his right and Yuuri to his left.

Yuuri plopped himself onto the cloth and sat Indian style. He put his elbow on his left thigh and rested his head in his hand. It was only when he saw Wolfram pressing his hand to his side and getting to his knees gingerly that he began to worry.

"Wolfram?" Yuuri's voice was sincere and barely above a whisper.

Seeing the discomfort on the blond's face, Gracelynn asked cautiously, "Are you okay, Lord von Bielefeld?" Her sisters also turned to him when she said it. "You seem to be holding your side as though it ails you," the youngest sister continued.

"I was injured awhile back," Wolfram said simply.

"In the line of duty…as a soldier?" Gracelynn asked, breathlessly. The twins nodded. That was their question, too. The girls all leaned forward, eyes wide in anticipation.

"It is the possible fate of all who wear the uniform. And my duty," he said with modesty. It was a truthful statement, but he also hoped that it would win over the pretty faces that watched him. He glanced at Murata to see what his reaction was. And, it was difficult to tell due to the shine on his glasses.

The girls uttered words of approval. "Brave." "Daring." "Inspiring!"

_Ah, the twins…_ "Thank you," the blond said, taking the last two flowers out of Yuuri's hand. Wolfram passed one to Murata, who took it out of amusement more than anything else. He twirled it between his thumb and forefinger—mentally going through the names of the genus and species of the plant.

The girls watched Murata, too. "Such pretty flowers. Right, Adelina?" the blond twin said to her sister, but her blue eyes were on the sage.

_Oh, so the twin sitting next to me must be Adelina,_ Murata thought with a smile.

"Yes, so nice."

Gingerly again, Wolfram moved himself into a more comfortable position—trying to cross his legs like Yuuri. He managed to do it, but dug the nails of his right hand into his knee. Yuuri's dark eyes saw it.

_I hope Wolfram is okay_, Yuuri fretted. He cast a sidelong glance and saw, much to his dismay, that the blond had paled in the face. He was turning a color white as snow and, frankly, Yuuri didn't know what to do about it. _This whole situation is bad_, he thought. _But, if it weren't for "The Dry Wind" and that accident in the lab…_ In his mind, he had an image of himself and Wolfram, from not so long ago. They had both been in the machine. And they each saw a different, possible "future"—a fearful one. _But, was it really so frightening?_ Yuuri reflected. Then, his mind snapped to where he was now. _What did I just do? I just handed out flowers to…loosely dressed women while…Wolfram looked on! That was the future that Wolfram saw in the machine!_ The double black blinked hard at that. Slowly, he turned his head to take in the profile of the blond next to him. Yes, this was the future Wolfram feared most. He had been so upset about it when they woke up from their "trip." Wolfram had shouted, loudly in his ear, that he never wanted to see this…again. But he lived it. Just now!

For a brief second, Yuuri wanted to put an arm around the shoulders of the blond and hug him tightly. _This was your nightmare…and, in a way…mine, too. Back then, I didn't want you to…really like me. I got my wish, didn't I? _

"Shibuya?" Murata said. "We just asked you if you wanted a drink."

"Oh, sorry," he said, putting one hand behind his head. "I just zoned out for a second." Murata watched Yuuri blink something that looked like tears at the corner of his eyes away.

_Something's wrong with Shibuya._

The double black's attention slowly focused on the people around him—even if he had to force himself to do it. The group of them chatted lightly with Murata being his usual, charming self. When he wasn't speaking, Yuuri noted, that Wolfram could be quite content just watching the "beautiful faces" that he'd come to see. He also noted which faces were more interesting than others. For example, he noticed that his own wasn't high on the list of priorities and only got a few glances. Yuuri thought that, as a fiancé, he should have gotten a bit more attention than that.

"So, tell us a story, Lord von Bielefeld," Adelina said sweetly. Her request reminded Yuuri of Greta's demands for a bedtime story each night. With their daughter away, Yuuri had missed storytelling.

Wolfram thought about it. "Let's see… Oh, there was that time when I attended the 'Lantern Festival…three years ago.'"

"Oh, I love that one!" Adelade said back, hands clasped together suddenly at the memories: the parade of glowing lanterns, the food, and the flute music playing in the background.

"Yes, well I was attending this with," and his voice stopped suddenly.

"With someone else other than the maou?" Murata said with amusement, his eyes turning wickedly in Yuuri's direction.

The double black shot him a sour look. _It's only three years in Wolfram's mind. It was much longer ago than that._

"Well, yes…" Wolfram continued awkwardly. "Anyway, my..." He coughed into his fist. "My lady companion and I met a fortune teller. For a coin, she'd read our futures to see if we were compatible or not."

_Great_, Yuuri thought grimly, _this time it was a girl…_

"And?" Adelade said. She loved fortunetellers.

"I was fully expecting that she would say that we would be the ideal couple. Married forever." He cocked his head in a charming way at the twins. "After all, I had just given her money for a fortune."

"But she _didn't_," Adelade guessed while her brunette little sister pretended to stifle a yawn. Gracelynn didn't like fortunetellers at all. They were creepy.

"You are so right, my lady," Wolfram said and gently tickled the blond under the chin. She giggled. Yuuri crossed his arms and looked away. _What is this 'my lady' stuff?_

"Well, the woman looked into a water-mirror—one of those porcelain bowls filled with holy water—and said a few magical words—which I shall not repeat now because they could cause trouble."

Murata held back a laugh. Boy, was Wolfram laying it on thick.

"And then…?" the twins urged, both leaned towards him.

Wolfram, very briefly, had the fantasy of kissing the twins and Murata—each in turn. Gracelynn might get a peck on the forehead if she was really lucky.

"And then, the fortuneteller told me that my soul mate—the one I'm tied to by the red string of fate by the ankle—my "twin flame, as it were…"

Now, all the girls leaned forward. Murata's eyes were on him, too.

"Was in the water."

"Oh…I don't get it," Gracelynn said, looking totally confused. "Do you mean in the fortune teller's magic water dish?"

"Water-mirror!" the twins corrected.

"Yes, of course…" Gracelynn sighed impatiently.

Wolfram smiled sheepishly at her. "My read string leads into the water. I suppose that my soul mate probably drowned." It was followed by a slight shrug. "So, in this life, I'm pretty much on my own."

"Oh, how sad!" the twins both sighed at once.

Yuuri and Murata, on the other hand, gave each other strange looks. Yuuri used water to travel back and forth between worlds. He could travel to Earth and back at will now. Murata had been with him on many of these journeys. How would a fortuneteller know about that?

"A guess," Yuuri mouthed to Murata.

"Possibly," The Great Sage mumbled back with an unreadable look on his face.

"Now," Adelina said, "I think it would be great to hear a story from our sage." She smiled at Murata who easily smiled back even though he was trying to shake off the odd feeling he got from Wolfram's story. "That's fine," he said, "I do have a couple of stories." And he began to speak of the days of the original sage and how Yuuri had brought peace to the land a little at a time.

"Wasn't that wonderful?" Gracelynn said to Wolfram. Yuuri noted that they looked to be exactly the same age. So, it made sense that she'd pay him extra attention. The double black had also spaced out again and was totally clueless as to what was "so wonderful" that she needed Wolfram's agreement. The maou noticed that Wolfram smiled pleasantly at her with charm.

"Yes, I think Murata is a master storyteller." He leaned forward a bit when he said it—wanting eye contact with the sage.

"I agree," the brunette said and placed a hand on Wolfram's shoulder with a smile.

_Oi! She just jumped from the "nudge" stage to touching him. And it wasn't the hand, either. It was the shoulder! So, what does the shoulder mean?!_ Yuuri stared down at his half eaten sandwich. He never noticed, up till now, that he had actually been eating one.

"Quite good. Right, ladies?" Wolfram said to the twins. They nodded and giggled a little at Murata. Yuuri noticed that Wolfram had placed his hand softly over Gracelynn's. Then, he gently guided it down and away from him in such a smooth and sweeping motion that the girl didn't notice. No offense was taken.

_How did he just do that?_ Yuuri blinked. He couldn't help but be impressed.

Gracelynn turned her wide eyes up to Wolfram again. Yuuri could see a spark of annoyance in his green eyes now and chuckled darkly on the inside. _That's what you get for being a 'master flirt', Wolfram,_ the double black thought with a smirk. _If you were your old self, and I had done that, you'd be dragging me away by my ear. I am so much more patient and understanding than you are._ That thought appealed to him, too.

"How rude of me," the blond said to her, "I haven't asked my _fiancé_ what he thinks."

"Fiancé?" the girl echoed.

"Why, yes, our maou and Lord von Bielefeld are engaged," Murata said with a toss of his head at Wolfram.

Wolfram nodded back with seriousness.

"Didn't you know?" Adelina said to her baby sister. "I thought everyone did."

Before Gracelynn could make a reply, there was a sudden crash.

Wolfram's head turned toward the double black. "Yuuri!" he said in the same half aggressive, half pleading tone that he always did when his fiancé was in danger. The voice was higher pitched, but the reaction was typical of the blond.

Before Yuuri knew it, Wolfram had knocked him down and shielded him with his body. The action was agony, too, because moving so quickly and changing position made the blond want to pass out just to escape the pain in his side. Mentally, he fought off the darkness and swore to himself that he would be with Yuuri no matter what.

"Oh, no!" he heard a shrill feminine voice say.

It took a minute, but Wolfram managed to pull himself together enough to sit up.

"So sorry!" Lasagna said to them. "I was bringing you a little dessert and dropped the cake plates." She looked down at the stepping stone in front of her with shards of white porcelain littered everywhere. She fretted and scampered off to get something to clean up the mess with.

"What a relief," Wolfram sighed, putting a hand to his beating heart. He had no idea what had come over him. Everything was just instinct. And, if it had been a real danger and, if he had died in the process, that would have been fine with him. Some part of his soul would have been happy to do it—glad even.

"Umm…Wolfram?" Yuuri said from underneath, "Can you get off?"

Wolfram was still on top of Yuuri. In fact, he was straddling him low across the hips and had a hand cupping the right side of the double black's cheek. Emerald eyes blinked. "Hell," he breathed, and got off.

They both had bright red cheeks as they sat up.

_I did that in public!_ Wolfram grimaced on the inside. _Ugh!_

"So brave!" Adelina said with stars in her eyes. Her hands were clasped to her heart.

"Aww…I want someone to protect me that way, too," Adelade said with a whine.

Gracelynn merely pouted and found Murata patting her on the shoulder in a friendly, but highly amused, way.

Wolfram moved with an agonizing slowness back to his place. In addition to the pain, he was still breathing hard and could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest. He hoped it was due to the scare they'd both had or, maybe, the embarrassment of the "position" he was in. But, he was starting to have his doubts. Then, he looked up. All eyes were on him. He had to say something now. "Well, to take the death blow in place of our maou…there would be no greater honor."

He grinned to himself inwardly. Yes! That statement would fix everything.

"I won't have that," Yuuri snapped back, tugging at his school jacket to keep it from riding up. He wasn't going to have any talk of Wolfram dying. He'd already gone through that kind of agony more than once—of Wolfram just jumping into situations without planning first.

Everyone blanched at Yuuri's comment.

"Yuuri-Heka?" Wolfram turned narrow green eyes to his fiancé. "Are you saying that I'm not worthy to die in your place?" There was a dangerous tone to him now. His fists were clinched and he was glaring hard to drive his point home.

"Of course not," Murata said wisely, "it's just that our new maou doesn't know all of our customs yet. And he doesn't _understand_ the honor that a warrior is given if he makes the ultimate sacrifice." Murata emphasized "understand" for a reason and hoped that Yuuri would pick up on it.

The girls murmured a somewhat insincere "oh, I see" followed by other suggestions like: "He needs a good tutor," "He'll quickly learn our ways," and "I know good books on etiquette."

Yuuri put a hand over his eyes as the girls chatted. _Not good. Definitely not good, even if it's the way I truly feel... _

Then, Yuuri leaned into Wolfram's shoulder. His fiancé was staring darkly at the ground but allowed the contact. So, the double black felt only slightly better.

"Sorry, Wolfram," he whispered.

He got a "humph" as a response. So, Yuuri decided to try again. "Please be reasonable." It was followed by a nervous laugh.

The blond's face hardened at the implication that _he_ was the one at fault.

Yuuri sighed and said, "I just can't…part with you. So, I'm sorry. Forgive me for being selfish."

"Really?" came a quiet reply. This time, the blond seemed to brighten a little but he still acted put out. He folded his arms and said, "If you say so."

"Don't be mad at me," the double black whispered. Almost instantly, he could see the last of the anger drain away from green eyes. And then, Yuuri smiled a little on the inside, seeing for the first time how to handle Wolfram. Because, it wasn't just what he said but the soft, "just between us" way that he had to say it that won the blond over. Yuuri understood now. Giving in to Wolfram's behavior was "the wimp." And barking back at Wolfram was being like Gwendal or "a brother." His relationship with Wolfram was different. It had to be deeper, more personal.

"Girls?" a bald, middle aged man in a new suit of clothes said with a very pleased Gwendal by his side. "We are done with the signing and it's time for us to leave."

"Heika," Gwendal said, "This is Joshua Stein, the town mayor."

"And our father," the girls said in unison and, then, giggled because they'd said it together.

The mayor gave a profound bow and the girls stood up, giving curtseys with their blue flowers in their hands. This would be their parting moment from the maou and they wanted to make a very good last impression. And it worked. Yuuri turned pinkish and Wolfram did, too.

"Heika?" Gwendal said, "I'll need you to cosign the document that we just finished with. Could you spare a moment to do that?"

Yuuri frowned a bit. This was sounding like work again. Work! And he was promised the entire week off. But, he also saw the hopeful look on the mayor's face. And he hated to disappoint anyone. So, he stood up.

"It was nice meeting you," Yuuri said to the girls and their father.

"Shall we go?" Gwendal said to the little group. They all headed off across the well manicured lawn and onto the cobblestone walkway.

Once they neared the path that took them to the gate, Gwendal assigned a guard to escort the mayor and his daughters out. There was another brief bow. And Yuuri and Gwendal proceeded on to the castle.

As the maou and his brother retreated, Wolfram found himself still sitting on the blanket with Murata. The sage smiled back and pushed his glasses up his nose a little.

The pair walked on. Gwendal cleared his throat a little and said, "So, how is my brother doing? I'd like an honest answer."

Yuuri blinked at the question._ Should I tell him that Wolfram's in pain? That he's turned white before me?_ Yuuri looked back behind him. He frowned deeply to see Wolfram scooting closer to Murata—who didn't seem to mind the attention at all. Their shoulders touched and they seemed to be talking quietly to each other.

"Oh, I'd say he's…just about…." Yuuri searched for a word. "Impossible." He began to march away and Gwendal felt a bit confused, trying to keep up with the Demon King.

* * *

In the distance, Conrad could see his older brother walking with his godson. It was good to see Yuuri in the gardens. Since they both appeared to be free, it might be fun to play a little baseball. He'd heard that Gwendal had given Yuuri a whole week off. So, it was a safe bet that they could play a game of catch or have a little batting practice.

Conrad's gaze strayed in the garden somewhat, and he found himself shocked to see his younger brother sitting next to Murata. It was more than the usual way they sat together. Wolfram was coming on strong—his body language was flirtatious and his smile bright.

Starting to feel sick about it, Conrad wanted to cover his eyes. This was not good. Once Wolfram was "himself" again, this little escapade would be haunting him for months. Conrad wasn't surprised to see that the servants in the castle were watching with great interest. Lasagna, in particular, was eating it up and taking notes on a pink notepad.

His stomach churned. If he could just walk fast enough, maybe Wolfram would see him and would behave with a little more dignity. Conrad remembered that Wolfram could be easily embarrassed by the attention of his own family at this age. Then, another thought came to him. He glanced at Yuuri. Had he seen this? The soldier didn't know for certain, but Yuuri's marching stride with clinched fists and an annoyed pout seemed to say "yes" to him.

* * *

"Well, that was very interesting," Murata murmured to the blond as he felt the body lean into him. They sat shoulder to shoulder.

"Is that so?" There was a sexy, almost "purring" quality to the voice.

"Yes…Yes, _of course_…" the sage looked deeply into emerald eyes and a secretive smile came to him. Wolfram's expression was different—very different. "Shinou Heika, the First King of Shin Makoku, has possessed you more than once. Did you know that?" Murata said. "You probably don't because you've been very ill. You don't even remember your fiancé right now…or me."

Wolfram bowed his head down. But sharp, green eyes looked at the sage from out of the corner. There was a cruel smile now.

"And it would be most unfortunate," Murata continued, "should that situation happen again."

There was a dark chuckle. It didn't sound like Wolfram's at all.

"I would probably avoid Shinou for the rest _of this lifetime_ if he happened to cause some sort of mischief to a sick man."

Eyes locked. Unspoken anger was rising. Wolfram's glare seemed to say, "Is he serious?"

"And I have no intention of carrying these memories, as The Great Sage, into my next reincarnation. So, this is the last "life" that I will have with a memory of Shinou."

A threat. Yes, this was a threat. Emerald eyes hardened at that.

Murata crossed his arms and huffed to himself impatiently. "So, stop being difficult and stop being so over the top." His face stiffened, looking away at nothing in particular. "Stop making trouble. You know what I want." He was at the point where he was going to say, "These little pranks are getting old. So, just get out!" when Wolfram's slender fingers touched his arm softly. The blond leaned in seductively, whispering back with the words, "As you command, but you'll regret it."

Wolfram's body collapsed.

Murata found himself with the sudden weight of a handsome, blond soldier pressing against him—one arm slung over his shoulder and the head against his chest.

"Wolfram!" yelled Conrad. He'd seen his brother whisper something in Murata's ear and, then, he just crumbled against him.

Yuuri heard the shouting and turned with Gwendal at his side.

"Wolfram, no!" Yuuri cried out, panicked.

"Get Gisela!" Gwendal barked to Lasagna, who stared, horrified with wide eyes. She nodded and took off—speeding through the castle.

Murata wasn't prepared for this. He prided himself on being the sage. But, even a sage cannot foretell all possible outcomes—especially this one.

Wolfram's body sagged. Now, Murata was supporting Wolfram's head in his left hand with his arm wrapped around the other's waist to keep him from falling and injuring himself further. The body was white—too pale. The lips were parted slightly. There was soft breathing. The sage could feel it against his own chest.

"Wolfram!" Yuuri shouted across the lawn as he ran, arms pumping. _I knew he was turning white and I did nothing. He felt bad and I didn't say anything because he was flirting. I didn't tell Gwendal about it because…I was feeling… _

He ran harder than ever before to be by his side.

_I was jealous._

* * *


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

"I should send for a stretcher," Gisela murmured to herself, putting a hand to Wolfram's head and feeling for a temperature. There was none. But he was pale and he was out cold.

_Not good,_ she thought.

"I think he just fainted," Murata commented evenly, adjusting the glasses on his face. The shine hid his eyes. Once he had gotten over the initial shock of having Wolfram in his arms, Murata was back to his usual, secretive self. He almost seemed mildly amused once Yuuri had taken the blond out of his arms and stretched him on the picnic blanket. Wolfram's head had rolled to one side and Yuuri patted it gently—trying to wake the blond up.

Both Yuuri and Conrad glanced at Murata, not knowing how to react to his comment. They both remembered how Wolfram had been flirting shamelessly minutes before. Murata's eyes had sparkled at it. The pair spoke quietly to each other. And, then, this happened. Certainly, Murata was a hard one to figure out.

"Don't bother getting the stretcher," Gwendal said with a deeply worried tone, scooping up Wolfram into his arms like one of his over-sized knitted toys. The blond's head sagged against his chest. His legs dangled.

For a second, the double black could see 'baby Wolfram' again in the blond's soft features—taking a nap against his big brother. The image of the child was still there even though Cadet Wolfram looked much older. Only, this time, Wolfram wasn't sleeping. He wasn't sleeping at all. Yuuri clinched his fists at that.

"Are we taking him to your office or the castle's clinic?" Gwendal asked her. But it sounded more like a demand.

"No, his bed," Yuuri said. His tone was final on that point.

Gwendal turned to him and raised an eyebrow.

"I mean," Yuuri clarified, "the bed he woke up in this morning. If he doesn't 'grow up,' then he'll remember where he is, and it won't be so stressful on him."

Gisela nodded in agreement. "Let's do that, Heika."

Briskly, Gwendal walked through the castle with his baby brother. Wolfram, looking like a fourteen year old on Earth, was now slightly smaller and lighter than the usual Wolfram. But, still, carrying him was an easy burden. The maids and other servants looked shocked to see the little group heading for Wolfram's bedroom. Guarding the outside of the study, even Jacob's light brown eyes widened at the sight. But it was Emmaline who froze in her tracks when she saw Gwendal and Wolfram's procession down the hall.

"Oh, my lady," Emmaline breathed, turning to Cecile on her left.

"Oh, no! Wolfie," Cecile said in a wet voice, tears coming to her. She turned to Yuuri and quickly followed, her dark black dress clinging to her as she jogged a little to keep up with him. "What happened? He was fine when I saw him earlier." The ex-maou's eyes were pleading with Yuuri to answer. "Tell me."

Yuuri didn't look at her. Still upset himself, he was practically staring a hole into Gwendal's back. He needed to hold on. Yes, hold on until he felt…felt strong enough to answer her.

"Please?" she said, her voice breaking a little.

The double black closed his eyes briefly and found strength coming from somewhere. "We were having a picnic. He collapsed. And then…Murata…" Yuuri motioned his eyes to the person behind him "… caught Wolfram before he hit the ground."

Yuuri kicked himself mentally for the abbreviated version of events. However, she didn't really need all of the details just as they were all rushing through the castle where anyone could overhear. Then, the images came back to him. _And he was lying limp in Murata's arms. Pale. Close enough to kiss with an arm around his shoulder._

Yuuri shook his head a little as he marched on to keep up with Gwendal. _No, I'm being too hard on Murata. And Wolfram's memories are confused. He's still living in the past because his body hasn't caught up with him._

Yuuri watched Cecile flash a look of thanks to Murata for his help. Maybe, he should thank Murata, too. But, at this point, the double black wasn't certain about anything that was going on and he hated it. Suddenly, he realized that he was spacing out again and falling behind. He quickened his pace.

The door to the bed chamber was thrown open.

"Put him on the bed," Gisela ordered. "I need to examine him."

* * *

The rain storm wasn't as bad as Yozak had expected. Quickly, he stabled his horse and got a room at the local inn. He opened the window, folded his arms on the sill and watched the rain fall. Soft, rolling booms only accentuated the splashing rain as it hit the roof.

"Well, there's no helping it," he said to himself as heavy clouds made their slow, meandering trek across the sky. "I can't send a homing pigeon out in this weather. I'll just have to stay put for awhile." He reached a hand out and let some drops fall on the palm.

There was a knock at the door.

Yozak tensed up for a second.

"Ummm…hello?" said a feminine voice on the other side.

A crooked grin came to Yozak as he wiped his wet hand on his trousers. With more confidence, now, he approached the door and opened it.

"Oh, hi!" said a girl who looked slightly younger than he was with brown hair that had creamy, golden streaks in it. She wore a simple cotton dress with a white lace collar to it. "I'm Connie. Remember? I just checked you in a few minutes ago." Her face looked hopeful.

Yozak nodded to her. Yes, he remembered her. He remembered her _well_. His eyes flicked to the tray that she was holding. It had a teapot with two cups.

"So…I was thinking…ummm…If you'd like…" She started to blush a little.

"You were wondering if I'd like to have some tea?" Yozak said, trying to play down the roguish charm. He didn't want to scare her off.

She looked surprised when he took the tray from her and asked, "Join me?" He looked down at it. "I seem to have two cups here."

Connie nodded shyly and blushed again. "Yes, I was hoping to… I mean, I was hoping you'd ask."

Yozak motioned to the chair by the door. She sat. He put the tea tray on the bed and sat on the corner of it.

"Oh, let me pour it!" she said, getting up.

"Oh, don't bother. I'm already doing it anyway."

There was the sound of green tea being poured mixed with the rhythm of the rain outside. Yozak thought it was soothing and enjoyed it immensely.

When he offered the white cup, Connie took it and touched his hands gently. It wasn't intentional, but he noticed that it made her happy. Then, a gust of wind blew through the window. It pushed the door to the room closed with a bang.

The noise made her jerk in her seat. Then, she laughed a little at herself for reacting that way. It was only a door, after all.

"Oh, let me get that," Connie said. The girl stood up and turned the knob—pushing it open. But Yozak noted that the door wasn't open all the way. It was half closed now. He raised an eyebrow at that. _This could be interesting_, he smirked inwardly. "That's a good idea," Yozak murmured before sipping his drink. "A young lady's reputation could be soiled very easily by something so…well… so innocent as a door closing."

"Oh, yes," she said, fretting, "you're right, you know. But, still…" She studied his face further and then decided to add "My family is out shopping—and probably caught by the storm—and there are no others lodging here except you." Her eyes shined a little at him. "And I don't think you'd hurt me."

Yozak's blue eyes glanced up at her. _Naïve…_ Then, for a second he seemed to be remembering something and shrugged. "Just be careful. It's a dangerous world out there." He finished with a sigh. "This tea is really good."

She agreed, stood up, and took the teapot. "More?" She was standing above him and leaning over slightly. Without looking up, he said "please" and could hear a happy, light chuckle from her.

He smirked and said, "So, tell me about the people here. You seem to know everybody." He looked down at his tea again. The steam swirled. "I'm sure you can tell me a great deal."

Connie grinned and took her chair again. "I can at that! I know just about everybody around. So," she said while tucking a brown strand behind her ear, "let's start with the towns folk…" The girl relaxed in the chair, felt the cool breeze coming from the window, and began to tell Yozak the story of where she lived. Every once in awhile, she'd pause to look and see if she had the orange haired man's whole attention. The town history couldn't be all that interesting, but he was watching her closely. With a little embarrassment, she pushed her shoulders together and continued. Yes, she decided, farmer Yozak must really like her, too. Maybe, if all went well, she could become an apple farmer's fiancé. For, that's what she remembered Yozak telling her that he did for a living.

Connie licked her dry lips a little and took a quick sip of tea.

"And, then, there's the farmers—like yourself," she said. His eyes glowed. _Beautiful…blue…eyes… "_The dirt farmers have some pretty good crops. But, of course, the larger farms have more to offer. There's the van Dantzs, the Grubers, and the Meigers." She stared down at her cup a little and added, "But stay away from the Meigers, though." Her voice was hollow. "It'd be for the best."

Connie put the cup to her lips briefly.

Yozak regarded her for a second. She was still holding the tiny white cup, but had rested it in her lap—eyes far away. Connie was surprised to find a large, male hand touching her wrist. She was so unprepared for it, that she almost spilled her tea in her lap, but Yozak's hand steadied her.

"You don't have to look so troubled," Yozak said, leaning forward. His face was close—really close.

Connie turned her head down.

"You don't have to tell me why…unless you want to," he added. His breath was on her cheek now. "You seem so concerned for me." Very gently, he brushed a strand of hair away.

Connie tilted her head again to look into handsome blue eyes.

It wasn't passion that he saw. Passion would be good just now. He really wanted to see that, to have her want him. He could kiss her a little, maybe.

She shook her head. "I just don't want you…to die."

* * *

From the far corner of the room, Murata watched Wolfram sleeping. Deep down, he hoped that was all it really was. The blond cadet was still lying on top of the bed in his blue uniform. It made his hair look more like shining gold than the usual amber. But it also made evident skin that was unnaturally pale. That worried him.

The sage crossed his arms and leaned his head back in thought. _So, now that I know that Shinou is back, why is he here? He's certainly lurking around Wolfram's head. But, this is beyond a prank or a simple possession. And both of those almost always had a purpose. _He watched the face of the sleeping blond again. There seemed to be something broken about him. _Shinou wanted me to know that he was possessing Wolfram. He made it fairly obvious. Hmmm… I'd better stick around to see what he's up to._

Slowly, Wolfram opened his eyes. He looked around him to see Gisela on his right producing a green glow from her hands on his side. _More healing maryoku, huh? Why?_ Vaguely, he became aware that his white shirt had been pulled up so that she had a better access to the scar. It looked like a large, slightly sunken pit of flesh. He sighed to himself. _Well, if she insists on doing that now_, Wolfram thought tiredly, _I suppose I can put up with it. After all, that's how I woke up this morning—with her doing that. Nothing's really changed._

Then, he scanned the room with his eyes. _Okay, that's different_. In the background, he could see his mother, both brothers, a dark haired guy with glasses whose name escaped him, and Yuuri on his left.

"Welcome back," Yuuri said happily. The double black had a broad grin on his face which, Wolfram noticed, made his mother smile, too, when he sat down on a corner of the bed. The blond's eyes drifted to the others. They seemed happy when the maou noticed him. _Fine. I can accept his attention._ Green eyes watched. He racked his brain a little for an appropriate response.

"Maou, thank you," the blond said while squinting up at him, "it was kind of you to come visit me."

The blond kept looking around the room, trying to get his bearings. Seeing that, Gwendal and Conrad gave each other looks of relief which put the blond at ease, too. He could just make out Conrad saying, "It was for the best that Wolfram was put back in this bedroom and not in the castle's clinic."

The blond turned his head to the maou. "I appreciate it," he said to Yuuri.

The double black gave Wolfram a confused expression. "Well…of course, I'd come to check on you."

Wolfram blinked up at him innocently. It was a vulnerable look that Yuuri wasn't prepared for. It seemed so unlike the blond. If there hadn't been a room full of people with them, Yuuri would have hugged Wolfram. He knew he would. But, something was holding him back.

_I'm such a coward_, Yuuri thought.

Then, Wolfram's face seemed to say, "Oh, I see." He forced his features to look pleasant again. For a noble, it was _good form_ to do that for the maou. "It's only because we're engaged, right?"

Yuuri looked away and thought, _Wolfram's Life Lesson Number Five: Keep everyone at a distance so that no one can get close enough to hurt you. _He sighed to himself._ Boy, Wolfram, you really know how to get to the heart of the matter. _And it didn't exactly help when he saw the smirks of everyone else in the room. He felt embarrassed at the attention. He started to sweatdrop.

"Well, I appreciate the gesture, Yuuri-Heika. But you are probably busy and I'm taking up too much of your time." There was a light smile on his face when he said, "I think I'll live." He gave Gisela a quick glance, too. She shook her head "yes" at that, not bothering to hide her amusement. But, she was the only one who actually took it that way.

Yuuri narrowed his eyes. There was something wrong—again. He also noticed that everyone in the room tried not to frown at that. His words to Yuuri were too distant, too formal…cold.

"It's no problem at all," Yuuri said simply. He couldn't help feel that Wolfram was giving him the brush-off.

"If you say so." Then Wolfram turned his face toward his mother. He could tell that it made her feel relieved. She brightened considerably when he did it. "Mother, when's dinner? I can't tell what time it is now."

"Well, who cares about the time?" she said cheerfully. "I can have a tray brought up whenever you like." She clasped her hands together and thought of all the things her Wolfie enjoyed.

Wolfram turned to Gisela. "Do I really have to eat a tray of food? Can't I eat with everyone else?"

The green-haired girl looked back at Wolfram with a smile. "I think that would be okay. I've healed a little more of the injury on your side. And you seem to have recovered from your fainting spell. So, I don't mind if you eat a light supper." Next, her eyes turned to Yuuri and then back to Wolfram. "But I want you to go to bed early."

Wolfram smiled at her a little to hide his confusion. _Why would the maou know or even care when I go to bed? We're only engaged—a formality, really from what I understand. It's not that he actually cares about me._

Still, she had agreed. And that made things easier. The reality was that Wolfram wasn't hungry at all. But he had learned a long time ago that the easiest way to get people off of his back was to appear healthy. Misdirection worked almost all of the time. And this was an easy misdirection.

"Well," Cecile began with a toss of her blond head, "dinner is in two and a half hours. I'll just nip over to the kitchen and have a quick word with the cooks." She started to leave, turned to her son and said, "See you at dinner, Wolfie!"

Wolfram watched her go with a straight face. He waved weakly and breathed a sigh of relief when she left. His blond head leaned back into the pillow.

"We'd better go, too," Gwendal said, turning his attention to Conrad. "I've got some budgetary questions about your troops and expenditures." Conrad responded with a light shrug and his usual smile. But, both men gave Wolfram one last glance before leaving.

Seeing a chance to exit, Gisela said, "I need to go check on a few people." She gave a short wave to Wolfram and headed for the door. Of course, she also knew that it could be very interesting to leave Yuuri, Murata, and Wolfram in the same room. But, if things got rowdy, she'd kick everyone out to let Wolfram rest.

Emerald eyes turned to Murata. "I'm sorry, but…I only have a vague memory of you."

_Which is to be expected if Shinou was controlling your actions off and on_, Murata thought darkly, pushing his glasses up higher on his face. "My name is Murata Ken. And, remembering me, or not remembering me, isn't bothersome in the least," he said cheerfully. "After all, you've been sick for awhile."

"That's what they keep telling me," Wolfram said with some frustration. "Some of it, I remember. But, it's like remembering the plot to a play—not like I was doing it myself."

"The medicine," Murata said with finality. He also liked the pleasant smile that Yuuri had given him when he said it. It wasn't true at all, though. But he wanted to buy himself more time to investigate Shinou.

Then, suddenly—more out of curiosity than anything—he winked at Wolfram.

Wolfram blanched a little at that and seemed to withdraw into himself out of embarrassment.

_Good…Shinou isn't in there at all. But that doesn't mean that he won't come back._

"Wolfram?" Murata said and saw an almost hesitant look on the blond's face. "If you should feel sick again…or have nightmares…please don't hesitate to tell Yuuri or me."

"Nightmares?" Yuuri echoed, feeling worried and protective at the same time. Unconscious of what he was doing, his hand inched closer to Wolfram's.

Without missing a beat, Murata explained, "Well, if he hasn't been 'himself' for awhile, it might make him have those." He smirked while thinking, _And it's also a sign of resistance to being possessed by a spirit—even Shinou._

Wolfram crossed his arms and turned his face away. "I'm a cadet. I'd never be so weak as to have nightmares."

"Come on, Wolfram, everyone has nightmares occasionally," Yuuri said reasonably.

"This is ridiculous." Blond hair shook "no."

Yuuri leaned forward, near Wolfram's face, and noticed a faint blush coming to him. He grinned at that and said, "I can make it an order."

The blond's jaw dropped. "That order has nothing to do with the military or politics!"

Yuuri leaned in closer, enjoying a bit of dominance over the blond. "You're one of my cadets. So, I can order you to do anything that I want."

"What? Wait a minute!" Wolfram protested. He could actually feel himself flush at that.

"Fail to tell me if you're sick again or have nightmares and," he leaned in further, close to the blond's ear, "it's treason," he whispered.

Emerald eyes shot open.

"You can't do that!" The fourteen year old Wolfram bellowed.

Yuuri leaned back laughing. "I just did!"

"Ooohhh!" the blond gritted his teeth, green eyes ablaze aimed in Yuuri's direction. "I…I hate you!"

"Yeah, I know," Yuuri laughed. "And after dinner, we'll discuss sleeping arrangements."

"Eh?" Wolfram said, his jaw dropped again.

Murata quietly slipped out the door, fearing a fireball.

"What arrangements?" the blond growled at Yuuri.

"Make the maou mad," Yuuri shot back with mischievous, onyx eyes and a sing-songy teasing tone, "and I just might make you sleep with me…in a pink nightie."

He closed the door firmly behind him but could still hear Wolfram stammer—which easily turned into a tantrum. "W-What? Don't I get a say in that? I'm in my 70's. You can't treat me like I'm 30 or something! Pink? I sleep in white night shirts like the rest of the soldiers. You're a jerk, Yuuri! I'd rather sleep in the stables with the horses. Do you hear me? Huh? You're being cruel to a sick person. You are a total and complete ass! It's not fair! It's totally…not…fair…!

* * *


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

* * *

**Author's Note:**

If you are interested in seeing the inspiration for my story, just go to YouTube and search for "Ode to Wolfram" by hatsuyuki.

I've had such fun with this--

Thanks!

HARPGO

* * *

"We're home!" Greta shouted, her pudgy little arms waving. Gwendal and Conrad, who were walking down the hallway, saw her and smiled with surprise. It was nice to have the princess back. She was their little ray of sunshine.

Greta ran at Gwendal hard, her arms pumping, and jumped at him. Easily, Gwendal caught her and put her on his left shoulder where she had a bird's eye view of everything. He loved cute things and, today, Greata was wearing a pink sundress with white sandals that made her extra cute.

"Anissina and Günter are right behind me," she said, pointing a finger down the hallway. Not long after that, the two figures that they knew well were in plain sight.

Gwendal and Conrad forgot their budgetary business for the moment and approached the pair. There were serious looks all around. "I think we need to have a conference," the administrator said and motioned for them to follow him. Once they were at the entrance to the study, the soldiers guarding the doors stepped aside to give Gwendal room to set Greta down carefully. "I think you should go tell my mother that you're back." He gave her a sly look and said under his breath, "And I believe that she has a present for you."

"Yay!" Greta cheered, hugged Gwendal around the waist briefly, and skipped away.

Gwendal opened the door and ushered everyone else in. He gave Jacob, the guard, a look that said "mind your own business" –which made the gossipy guard sweatdrop slightly and the maids, following Emmaline to the ex-maou's quarters, giggle in the hall a little.

The administrator shut the door behind him and motioned everyone to circle around the table. "What do we know so far?" he asked pointedly.

"Shouldn't we wait for Heika?" Günter asked, his long hair draping around his shoulders. It had been awhile since he'd seen the king. He glowed with anticipation.

"He's with Wolfram right now," Conrad answered and, almost instantly, saw a frown etch its way onto the advisor's face. "I'll fill him in later."

"As I was saying…" Gwendal grumped and pushed his hair out of his eyes. "What do we know so far?"

"The alchemist says that there is a family of especially gifted mazoku weapons makers in the Bielefeld territory…along the border. The large piece of rainbow obsidian that they used to make the arrow was rare and incredibly expensive. The time and effort that it took to craft the arrow in the first place was laborious because it was more than 'constructed'," Günter said knowledgably.

Conrad and Gwendal blinked at him in confusion.

"It was _cursed_ as well," Anissina chimed in.

"And, based on my research, this information is fairly consistent with the ancient texts. It is possible to curse an arrow to make it sharper, fly faster, be more painful, etc. etc." Günter sighed dramatically. But, for once, no one had a problem with it.

"So, someone had a grudge against Wolfram," Conrad said, his mouth a thin line.

"It would seem that way," Anissina said.

"I'm certain that it's revenge," Gwendal gritted out. "I just got a message from Yozak. He's tracked down the men who attacked Wolfram."

Everyone stared at him with wide eyes.

"Seriously?" Conrad said. He was surprised because Gwendal was so protective of their little brother. He wouldn't have put it past him to ride out alone and seek a little honor-bound revenge of his own. But, instead, his big brother responded by crossing his arms and staring down angrily. "These five men are the 'hand' so to speak. We need to find the 'mind' behind this."

"And just who exactly would that be? It's very hard to confront someone for an attempted assassination if we don't know who they are," Anissina thought out loud with a hint of worry. Vaguely, she wondered if she could invent a machine that could force people to tell the truth. That way, they could catch the band of five men and force them to talk without torture. She looked into Gwendal's face. For a brief second, she thought that Gwendal would have preferred a little torture.

Gwendal lowered his voice to a dangerous whisper. The others understood and leaned in more. "Do any of you know a family called the Meigers?"

He received blank looks. That told him enough. But what he failed to see was a glimmer of recognition in Günter's face. He kept his head down, though.

"According to Yozak," he said with another frown coming to him, "it seems that they're the ones we are looking for." He had to fight to keep from gritting his teeth again. "It was, apparently, easy enough for them to simply manufacture—or, maybe 'craft' would be a better term—what they needed for revenge because that's their family trade." His eyes narrowed. "But, the greater insult is that they put such effort into it—beyond the easy and cheap way to attack."

"Then, most certainly, it's more than political. It's a grudge…payback," Anissina murmured. The others nodded at that.

"But why?" Gwendal banged his fist on the desk in frustration. He rolled out a map and tapped his finger on the lands ruled by his brother's family. "What did Wolfram do to cause this much hatred? What has he done recently?"

"He is engaged to our wonderful, handsome maou," Günter gushed. The thought alone put stars in his eyes. Images in his head of Yuuri always did that to him. Everyone pretended not to notice.

"But he has been engaged for quite some time," Conrad said, "and it wouldn't explain the reason why they put such time and effort into hurting Wolfram with a rare and expensive arrow."

"You mean 'arrows'," Gwendal growled, much to the shock of everyone in the room. They knew he was in a bad mood but they weren't prepared for it. "They've made more."

"Who are they going to use it on next?" Conrad asked with eyes widening.

"We don't know."

"Rare and expensive arrows…" Anissina murmured out loud, thinking to herself.

"Well, they could have been just lying around," Günter said hopefully.

"No," Anissina said with a shake of her red head, "because the alchemist pointed out that it was poisoned. And all poisons have a potency that wears off after time—especially this type."

"But that still leads us back to the question 'why,' doesn't it?" Gwendal said.

"It could also be something Wolfram's done in the past. But, only now, do they have the time or the means to come after him," Conrad said, wondering if this was true or if he was just dreaming up trouble.

"Whatever it was," Gwendal said with a dangerous clouded look on his face, "it made them remember Wolfram and to hate him enough to plan out an ambush to take his life no matter how many soldiers were with him at the time."

* * *

She was a good kisser. There were no doubts in Yozak's mind about that. Connie would nibble his lower lip and then tug at it gently with her teeth. His body responded almost immediately. But Yozak had to remind himself that he was on a mission and couldn't get carried away.

Somehow, they'd both decided to get more comfortable on his bed and the tea tray was on the floor now. Connie was on top, kissing him with sweet but persistent bursts. Yes, it would be so easy to forget that this was a 'business' trip. And this was not exactly the kind of 'business' that he had envisioned. But, he was no fool. He'd go along with it.

Connie kissed the side of his neck and stray strands of dark and cream colored hair floated against his cheek. The strands stroked his face and he closed his eyes at the silky touch.

He watched the ceiling for a second and willed his hands not to grab the girl around the waist and run his fingers up along her sides. _Damn! _His hands had a mind of their own. The dress material was incredibly thin. He really needed to stop this. _Eventually..._

"So," Yozak said quietly as she stroked his orange hair. He was hoping that his voice wasn't going to crack. "Tell me more…" _Oh, she's kissing behind my ear!_ He wanted to purr when she did it a second time. He held his breath instead. "Tell me…tell me…about these people you want me to avoid."

She blinked a little and her eyes lost that playful quality. But the blue eyes, that were staring up at her, danced. Could she really deny him?

"The Meigers?"

"Yup, you've got me curious."

She leaned down for another kiss. He allowed it.

"Just…stay away from them. They're rich, but they're not good people. And most folks would agree with me."

"But, this town seems so _good_. And the people," he reached up a hand and stroked back her streaked hair with a sexy grin on his face, "are so _friendly_… How can they be bad?"

She caught the hand going through her hair and placed her palm over it—enjoying the feeling briefly before answering, "They were once high up and important. Really important. But something," her eyes searched while she thought, "kinda political happened… I suppose you'd call it that…to one of their family members. Only, the dishonor spread to the whole family. Over night, it seems, their 'business' no longer catered to the nobility. So, they had to start making and 'delivering' what they sold to just about anyone who had the money."

Yozak stopped rubbing Connie's back in delicious little circles with his fingers. It made her pout slightly.

"Are you telling me that the Meigers make weapons?"

"Only the best, they say," she answered with a nod. "But, just to look at them, you'd think they were farmers or something." She sighed seeing that Yozak wasn't going to pay her much _attention_ now. "But, they're dangerous. And there aren't that many of them left in the family living on the Mazoku side. Distant cousins and uncles transport on the 'human side' if you get my meaning." She smirked at him. "But as long lived as we Mazoku are, we also die. And their Pa, the peacemaker in the family, died awhile back." She leaned down on Yozak and toyed with a curl of orange hair. "It's just the brother and sister now…along with the hired hands."

"I see," Yozak said. Then, another question came to him. "Was the political 'fall from grace' due to their—family business? If all of their previous clients were nobles, did they sell to the wrong side?" He stroked her cheek with his thumb.

"Oh, no," Connie chuckled back, "This family business was known for being neutral…not taking sides…or even being flashy at all. I guess, they've always been kind of quiet about it—humble so that they are more appealing to their clientele."

Yozak scratched his head a little. "Then, I can't see what it was that caused all of the trouble."

Connie laughed a little and replied, "Well, if you 'can't see,' then you are certainly not from around these parts. Many of us are oracle wielder Mazoku."

Yozak raised an eyebrow at that. He had heard of that sort, but not a small town full of them.

"R-really?" he said, wondering just how powerful Connie was.

Her face flushed a little. "I was hoping you wouldn't react like that. But some part of me knew you would."

"No, really… It's okay…" He could feel his heartbeat speed up. He was also wondering if she could pick up on lies.

"I have to touch someone in order to know that their _near_ _future_ is like. When I handed you the quill to write in the register, I touched your hand and I knew that I'd probably end up drinking tea with you…upstairs…like…this." She smiled shyly with a shrug.

"Oh," Yozak said, feeling only slightly better.

"I can't see very far or very clearly. Most here people are like that. It's just a picture in your head and a small jump in time."

Yozak began to breathe easier. He was worried that she would try to predict a death, or worse—a wedding. But, then, he thought about it. "I bet there are others here who are…stronger, huh?"

Connie bunched her shoulders together with a vague shrug.

"Oh, no." Yozak said with a sigh and ran his fingers through his own orange hair again, "Lemme guess…the Meigers?"

He got another nod. "It's the sister…Marelda. Her name means 'battle maiden.' So, I guess, it suits her."

* * *

Wolfram ducked back into a broom closet near the maou's bedroom. Through the door, he could hear a muffled little girl's voice prattling on and on. She seemed happy about what she was saying.

With slow determination, Wolfram pushed the closet door open slightly. A sliver of light flooded in and some of the must from the closet escaped. He could breathe a bit better, too. That made him relieved and less claustrophobic. What didn't make him happy—but mostly curious—was seeing Yuuri walking out of his bedroom holding the hand of a human girl child.

_What is he doing with her?_ The blond's face twisted in confusion. None of that made sense. And it didn't get any better when she called him "_Yuuri-daddy_."

"Eh?" Wolfram said, his jaw on the floor. "How can a half-Mazoku have a totally human daughter?" he whispered to no one in particular. He narrowed his eyes a little at that. Most Mazoku had a problem with humans—a big problem with them. And even though his own father was a lying, cheating rat who ignored him and treated his mother like furniture, some part of Wolfram still believed what his father always said—humans are scum and not to be trusted. The blond could also hear his father utter the words "And they are racially inferior," as he left for the final time.

Wolfram watched the two walking off—hand in hand.

_But, she also seems so…so happy. And I remember being little and wearing clothes cut in that same style._

"Is Wolfram feeling any better?" he heard the child ask. Wolfram froze, hearing his name. "Please, tell me that he is!"

Leaning casually now with one hand against the stone wall and the other on his hip, the blond smirked to himself.

"Yes," Yuuri said with confidence. "He'll be back to normal, I think, sometime soon."

"Good, because…" And she stopped in the hallway, looking up at Yuuri with large, happy eyes, "We both love him very much, huh?"

Yuuri blushed a little and put his hand on the back of his head. "Well…when you put it like that… I mean… That is to say…" He laughed nervously and Greta smiled. She wasn't fooled at all.

In the dark and enclosed space, Wolfram frowned. "I'm supposed to be your fiancé. Make me sound better than that," he whispered in a pouty tone. "And, if she's your child, that makes her my child, too, if we get married. And I'm being generous here because any Mazoku noble would have a problem with that." _But she also cares about me. And that feels really good. _Green eyes suddenly looked determined. "Make me look good to her, Yuuri," he urged with an edge to his voice.

"We'll wish him all the best," Yuuri said, face turning pinker.

The word "wimp" was growled from the closet.

Once Yuuri and Greta had gone, Wolfram slipped out from his hiding place and walked casually to the maou's bedroom door. A guard at the end of the hallway suddenly noticed young Wolfram and gave him a look. Not knowing what to do, he man just stared.

"I'm the fiancé, and I'm going in." The cadet tried to sound as confident as he could. Bluffing in training was one thing. Doing it one on one with a castle guard standing twenty feet away was quite another.

He pushed open the door. Then, just as quickly, he closed it behind him and leaned against it, breathing hard.

"Now…Yuuri Heika is really kind of a wimp after all. But, I've just got to know if he was serious or not." Wolfram looked around the bedroom. He didn't see anything. Feeling very much relieved, he allowed his tense body to relax. He had just worried himself over nothing. It felt good to be wrong occasionally. However, on the way out, the blond cadet realized that there was, indeed, one other place that he forgot to check. The obvious one.

With a slightly shaking hand, Wolfram opened the walk-in closet.

He froze.

It was there!

Wolfram saw, much to his horror, a frilly pink nightie hanging on a hanger!

"Hell!" Wolfram shot out, covering his mouth in shock with both hands. "He was totally serious!" He forced himself to lower his shaking hands. "I have to get along with him, or he's going to make me sleep in here wearing," he pointed at the monstrosity with a shaking finger, "that awful thing!"

"Pink! Does he not know that all of his soldiers wore the regulation white night shirt? No one wears any other color! He's…mocking me." Then, a worse thought came to him. "Holy crap! What if he makes me take that thing with me when I go on maneuvers? I'll be laughed at! Humiliated."

Wolfram shook his head savagely, blond hair spilling all around his shoulders. "I'll do whatever it takes to get this maou to like me. And, if I have to, I'll convince him that I need to be treated like all of the other soldiers." Then, he lowered his head a little. "This is my career, and it's just too important for me to mess up."

* * *

Wolfram was almost late for dinner. He walked quickly down the hallway—trying not to look as annoyed and nervous as he really felt. Yuuri, on the other hand, was worried for a whole other reason.

The double black looked at the people seated around the table and focused on his cute, little daughter. Greta chatted happily with Gwendal about nothing in particular—just enjoying the sound of her own voice and the way her "soon-to-be-someday" uncle responded to her. Yuuri chewed his lower lip a little. He wasn't sure how this new "Wolfram" was going to treat Greta. And, now that she was back here, it would be almost impossible to get rid of her without the whole table asking pointed questions. Still, if Wolfram was rude or—much worse—violent, the blond would never forgive himself once he returned to normal. Or, rather, as 'normal' as Wolfram could possibly get.

Yuuri practically jumped from his seat when Wolfrm entered the room. The blond approached the table, pulled a high backed chair towards him, and sat down.

"No, not there!" Greta laughed, recognizing Wolfram even if he looked a bit too young. "You always sit next to Yuuri over there." She pointed to the empty seat beside her father.

Wolfram's eyes flicked toward Yuuri.

Not being formally introduced to her as he would have liked (and he thought briefly again that his fiancé was rude and didn't follow etiquette as well as he should have) the blond simply nodded at her and took the appropriate seat.

"Um…Wolfram?" Yuuri said, leaning over and covering his mouth with his hand so that no one could lip read him, "That girl is my daughter. So, be nice to her. Don't hurt her."

Wolfram returned with an incredulous look on his face. His emerald eyes hardened and darkened at the same time. The double black didn't think that was possible at first.

Copying his fiancé's actions and covering his mouth in return, Wolfram hissed, "She's a child! I could never be mean to a child—especially one who is your daughter."

Yuuri lowered his eyes a bit, feeling ashamed. Of course, Wolfram had accepted Greta quickly from the start. If it was a child that he loved, then Wolfram would love in the same way, too. But, what still bothered him was the term "your daughter" instead of "our daughter." In the past, it had always slightly bothered him that the blond had barged in from day one and continually demanded to be seen as Greta's second father. But now, it was "your daughter." And Yuuri found himself feeling uncomfortable, and almost lonely, for a whole new set of reasons.

* * *

When dinner was over, Wolfram pulled his usual trick—leaving with a small group and then sneaking off by himself. He hung close to the back of the little group, seeing Anissina's red ponytail swishing in front of him. (It also reminded Wolfram that he needed to check on his horse and give him a good brushing later.)

As they passed the hallway leading to the gardens, Wolfram broke away from the group. It was a beautiful starry sky and he was thoroughly enjoying it. The breeze was cool enough to tingle his skin but not cold. The waxing moon was making its lazy trek across the night sky—heading west.

Wolfram smiled to himself, sat on the steps leading to the grassy gardens and allowed himself to relax. He leaned back on one elbow and played connect the stars with a finger—trying to see what pictures that he could come up with. He'd been at it awhile when he felt a presence behind him. It was dark, now, and all he could see out of the corner of his eye was a shifting, dark figure.

Wolfram snapped his fingers and stretched out his palm. A globe of fire about the same size as a cricket ball appeared. It rose a few centimeters in the air and rotated awkwardly on its wobbly axis to make it appear more threatening.

Turning, he shined the light at the figure behind him. It was Yuuri's face, lit up with the orange-red glow of the fireball. He seemed shocked.

_Oh, great! Now, I've done it! I'm supposed to get him to like me. This really sucks._ Wolfram smoothed out his face and looked at Yuuri with apologetic eyes. "You startled me, Heika. My most sincerest apologies."

"That's 'Yuuri' to you. And it's really okay," the double black said with hand gestures that seemed to say "let's just forget it." Then, he blinked a little, trying to get his eyes adjusted to the dark all over again since he was momentarily blinded by the light of the fireball. "It's just…" the double black's voice trailed off again.

Wolfram raised a curious eyebrow. The fireball in his palm made flickering shadows.

"I didn't know where you were and…I started to…I dunno…worry."

_He worried about me? It's not fake? He actually…cares?_ Wolfram thought and turned his face away. Even in the dark, he could feel it burn.

"Have a seat with me?" the blond said and cocked his head to one side in a questioning way. He was happy, and didn't really know why, when Yuuri sat on the steps beside him.

"Beautiful night," Yuri murmured.

"Isn't it?" Wolfram said, tilting his head back. He lost his concentration and the fireball vanished from his palm. It startled him a little, the sudden darkness. He noticed that Yuuri snickered at that. He wondered why it was funny. All fire Mazoku could conjure up fire, in many forms, at will.

Wolfram leaned back on the steps and propped himself up on his elbows a bit. His legs were bent—knees pointing to the sky. Yuuri, on the other hand, was sitting stiffly next to him. He watched the sky, too, but there seemed to be something on his mind.

Then, a few feet away, Wolfram saw it. Flickering spots of yellow-gold light.

"Firebugs," Wolfram said in a tone that was almost nostalgic.

"Oh, yeah!" Yuuri said with a bit of amazement. "Only, where I come from, we call them fireflies."

Wolfram sat up and took Yuuri by the hand. Once again, he noticed that the maou didn't mind the close contact. He squeezed the hand back as they walked toward the garden beds.

They stood and watched the glowing glimmers of light dance in the night. Yuuri still had not let go of Wolfram's hand. It made the blond smile a little to himself. Maybe the new maou had some good qualities after all.

"You know, there's a legend that says that when a soldier dies on the battlefield, a new firebug is born," Wolfram said and let go of Yuuri's hand. He saw a firebug fly very close to them and land on a bush. Gingerly, he went up to it and tried to get the insect to perch on his finger. To his surprise, the bug crawled on and the blond's fingertip had a golden glow to it.

"When I die," Wolfram said almost dreamily, "I wonder what my firebug will do and where will he go?"

Yuuri frowned at him. "Don't talk like that," he said with an edge.

Wolfram blinked back with a puzzled look.

"I didn't mean to offend you…" the blond began but Yuuri cut him off.

"You probably don't remember this, but I'm not going to have any wars. And you're not going to die on the battlefield." Black eyebrows narrowed. Even in the dark, Wolfram could see it—a look that bordered on anger.

"I apologize," Wolfram said again and accidentally uttered the words he thought out loud, "I thought I could talk to you."

"You can," Yuuri shot back sharply, "but I want to make it clear. You are not going to die like that. I won't have it."

Wolfram's face softened a little. The firebug flew from the tip of Wolfram's finger to the black school jacket that Yuuri had on. It stayed there and continued go glow off and on. Yuuri seemed surprised and forgot his anger.

The blond tried not to chuckle but a few escaped him. He coughed in a Gwendalish fashion and stepped close to Yuuri. "Your heart is glowing," he said softly. "I'd better take care of that before," and dark eyes met with green ones, "somebody notices." With a delicate finger, he lifted the bug up and watched it suddenly fly away.

Wolfram turned his face to Yuuri. His maou seemed confused—not knowing how to act next. It was cute. It really was.

"This way," Wolfram said, taking Yuuri by the hand again without hesitation. This time, it was an excuse to hold his hand. He noticed that Yuuri didn't seem to mind. They walked side by side in the night.

"This was what I was looking for," Wolfram said and motioned to a mature apple tree at the far corner on the garden. Even in the dark, it was possible to see that there were light colored blossoms all over it.

"This…tree?"

"It's my tree," Wolfram said with a little pride. "I grew it from a seed as an experiment with Anissina thirty years ago." He looked up at it. "I think it turned out rather well."

"It's great!" Yuuri said and sat down next to Wolfram at the base of the tree. They still had not let go of their hands. To the double black, letting go of Wolfram's hand would mean letting go of him. And, he was just coming to the realization that he didn't want that—ever.

A breeze came and pushed against the tree—the leaves making a shimmering sound that relaxed the blond. Yuuri watched him lean against the bark, blond hair cascading. He smiled at Wolfram. Seeing him like that seemed almost intimate.

"So…if you don't mind…"

Yuuri looked at Wolfram. "Mind…?"

"If I ask you about something, can you not get…mad?" Emerald eyes seemed to back up his question.

_Isn't this strange that Wolfram, of all people, should be asking me about not losing my temper?_ He bit back some choice words and reminded himself that Wolfram wasn't back to normal yet.

"I'll make you a deal," Yuuri said back, "a question for a question. Deal?"

Wolfram nodded.

"Do you mind if I go first?" Yuuri asked.

"Go ahead."

Yuuri let out a huffy breath and his eyes seemed to be searching the skies. But, in reality, Wolfram knew that it had nothing to do with their surroundings. It was something else.

"How are you…really?"

Wolfram could feel his hand being squeezed. Probably his fiancé didn't really realize that he was doing it. _He's afraid of my answer. Oh, I see now…_

"The truth?"

There was a silent nod.

"I'm still…uncomfortable," Wolfram said reluctantly.

_You mean "pain"_ Yuuri thought, eyes slowly hardening. He tried to hide it, though.

The blond continued, "I mean, it's nothing I can't handle." He saw the sudden, deep concern in Yuuri's face cast by the blue-grey moonlight. "But, it's frustrating, too. I can't remember how I got this way, or why I hurt this much. Everyone worries. I'm not healing fast enough." He shook his head hard. "No. The truth is that they can't heal me back to normal fast enough." The blond turned his head to face Yuuri. "I can't recall ever feeling this bad for this long." He placed the palm of his free hand against his aching side. "And my healing magic doesn't have much effect. But it does block the burning pain sometimes."

Yuuri looked at him worriedly. "Let's take you back. I'll have someone look at your wound again." He started to stand up.

The blond shook his head "no" and tugged lightly to get the double black to stay where he was. A small smile came to his lips. "I answered your question honestly. You need to answer mine."

Now, Yuuri felt worried. He had no clue what the blond cadet was going to ask. He hoped that it didn't involved the fact that they were still holding hands—hands that were getting slightly sweaty.

"Okay?" Wolfram asked.

"Fine," Yuuri replied as more of a sigh.

"I know that the war ended before I could join it. And I remember the ones being cared for were Yozak and Weller."

Yuuri bristled a little at calling his godfather "Weller." A part of him wanted to let go of Wolfram and take his hand back. Another part wanted to force the blond to see reason and hold on.

"They were injured badly and were cared for by a team of healers. And, no matter how they play it down, they were unable to do anything for four months."

Yuuri didn't know about this and listened carefully.

"I wanted to go after them. To fight! To find the people who practically wiped that army out and hurt two people who are very important to our country…"

_You mean, people who are precious to you, Wolfram_.

The blond leaned in a bit. "So, if someone attacks Yozak and Weller again…or anyone you care about….what exactly…will you do?" This was an awkward question. He knew the rumors about the double black. And, deep down, he was concerned that pacifist Yuuri would do nothing and be a wimp.

Remembering eight year old looking Wolfram's rant of "We are all going to die thanks to the new maou," Yuuri said, "I'd try every peaceful way that I could to find an understanding and negotiate without making us look weak." Wolfram raised a disbelieving eyebrow at that, but he wanted so badly to believe. The double black could see that in the slight frown.

"But you wouldn't try to avenge those who were hurt? Even if you cared about them?"

Yuuri thought about it. "Would it change anything if I did?"

"You would honor them and give their souls rest."

"Could I really act out in violence and murder—and call it a good deed?" He sighed impatiently because Gwendal had asked him the same question countless times. "Would that really be justice?"

"I was just asking as your cadet," Wolfram said. "I don't make policy. You do. I only follow orders."

The wind blew again and made that wonderful shimmering sound. Wolfram relaxed against the tree trunk with his palm at his side. He pressed a little and hoped that would stop the pain enough for him to feel the breeze and enjoy his moment with the maou.

"Can I tell you something…Yuuri?" He felt their hands tense up at the question. He heard a very hesitant "yes." He cut his eyes at the double black before shutting them again.

Yuuri held his breath for a second and looked at their hands. The fingers were laced together now. When had Wolfram done that? His heart began to race. Wolfram wanted to tell him something important.

"When I look at you, Yuuri, I feel…" The emerald eyes regarded him for a second. What he saw didn't surprise him. There was fear in the dark eyes. As a soldier, he had been trained to see that emotion in the enemy and take advantage of it. But, by extension, he could also see it in others as well.

_Oh, no! Here it comes… I've never had a love confession before. But this would be the perfect moment for it—alone, under a starry night, holding hands…._ He wondered how he'd react. _Yes, Wolfram will say something like "I love you" or maybe "I need you."_ He blinked at that thought and took it a step further. _Maybe, "I want your body…"_

"When I look at you, Yuuri, I feel…" The blond repeated. It was a difficult thing to say to anyone—let alone the maou.

"I know what you're going to say," Yuuri murmured, hoping to stop this before it was started. After all, Wolfram wasn't himself at the moment. And he was certain that neither one of them was ready to deal with this topic.

"When I look at you, I feel…" Wolfram stared deeply into Yuuri's eyes. "I feel sad."

Yuuri's jaw dropped at that. "What are you saying?" He couldn't believe his ears.

"I just can't shake this feeling when I'm with you. I feel _sad_—like my world has fallen apart. Like all hope is gone."

"I don't understand you," Yuuri said, doing his best to hide the hurt. "Have I done something to make you that way?"

"You tell me," the blond answered back. "Because I don't know why I need to be with you and then, at the same time, it all feels so hopeless."

Yuuri had more than a few guesses why Wolfram would feel that way. But he didn't want to discuss them here only to have Wolfram get better and forget it all.

"What were we doing before I got so sick?" Wolfram almost demanded, his tone strong. He saw Yuuri cringe as he flashed back to a body bleeding profusely on the floor, and the messages that weren't of "goodbye" and "I love you." He remembered Wolfram telling him to go on with his life, to find a woman, and, essentially, forget about him. Yuuri would be better off, happier even, if he did.

"You got hit with an arrow. I wasn't there," he said lamely. It was the truth, from a particular view point.

Wolfram took this to mean guilt at not being there to protect his fiancé. Well, if your fiancé is a soldier, then these things can't be helped. _It would also explain the bad reaction he had to the firebug myth, _he thought grimly.

Wolfram studied Yuuri's face for a second and felt too tired to call Yuuri a wimp for being so sentimental. He made a soft "humph" sound and tried to get comfortable against the tree again.

Within a few minutes, Wolfram had fallen asleep. At first, Yuuri hadn't noticed. He'd murmured a few things under his breath until he realized that the conversation was totally one sided. He looked at the blond and smiled slightly.

"Cold," Wolfram sighed and shivered slightly. The breeze felt great, but he could see that Wolfram might be feeling a little on the cool side. Then, the double black suddenly felt a blond head on his shoulder. He didn't mind it. Yuuri allowed Wolfram to lean on him because it eased some part of his own worrying soul. Before he knew it, the blond's body had slumped a bit more. He hissed hard and pressed a sleepy hand against his side followed by a gasp when he relaxed further into Yuuri.

_I guess, it can't be helped that he's a heavy sleeper,_ Yuuri thought as he took the blond into his arms. Wolfram's blond head was resting on his left shoulder. The legs were curled slightly as Wolfram tried to push against Yuuri's form to get more warmth.

Under the star-filled sky, Yuuri looked up. His fiancé was cradled in his arms sleeping contentedly. Soft, blond hair brushed against his cheek. There were little snores. And the scent that he'd missed so much, of sunflowers, was back. Yuuri closed his eyes at the comforting scent and tucked a blond head under his chin. Not believing that he was allowing himself to do it, Yuuri stroked one slender strand of blond hair down the side of Wolfram's cheek.

"Goodnight, Wolfram."

Wolfram wiggled a little to get more comfortable. He mumbled back near Yuuri's ear where he could hear the words "I love…"

Then, Wofram's eyes shot open and he took in a hard, desperate gasp. It was followed by another.

"Wolfram?" Yuuri's voice had panic in it.

"No! Hurts!" The blond was in pain now and thrashed his head. Yuuri tried to hold on to him, steady him. Wolfram only succeeded in burying his face into Yuuri's shoulder. He groaned in agony as his stubby nails dug in. For his fiancé and friend, the double black endured it, cradling him in his arms.

"Wake up! Answer me!"

The blond pressed his face harder into Yuuri's shoulder. With a muffled scream, his blond body collapsed against the double black—making Yurri want to shout out for help.

Then, he noticed it. Wolfram's body had gotten longer, taller. He seemed to weigh more, too. The back was no longer thin and narrow. The muscles were thicker and the chest had expanded. The face was more mature. And, much to his chagrin, he also noticed that the lips were fuller and very close to his own mouth.

Yuuri took a shaky breath and let it out a bit at a time. That had been horrible.

Slowly, emerald green eyes opened and squinted at him.

Wolfram, gritting his teeth together in pain and pushing a hand into his side, sat up and punched Yuuri hard on the shoulder, almost knocking him over.

"Yuuri! What are you doing to me, you idiot?!"

Wolfram was yelling now and his voice carried across the garden. A few of the guards posted outside the castle heard it and snickered. They'd happily tell this juicy bit of news to the maids tomorrow.

"Wha-? Wait, Wolfram!" Yuuri shouted in surprise, feeling totally confused.

The blond sat up and stared daggers into Yuuri's dark eyes.

"Just because you slapped me three hours ago, and made me your fiancé, does not give you the right to pull me out of bed just to feel me up like the perv that you are!" Wolfram, then, threw himself into tantrum mode—stomping his feet and glaring at Yuuri with everything he had.

"Wait! What do you mean three hours ago?" the double black said in shock.

When he tried to cover his head with his hands to keep from being injured, the blond's face took on an even more dangerous look and he stormed off across the lawn. Yuuri thought he was muttering something that sounded like, "My right buttock cheek would make a better maou."

The booted stomping gradually faded.

"No! I can't keep going through this," Yuuri moaned. He'd pulled his knees up, placed his forearms on them, and buried his face.

He cringed when he heard the faint but furious bellowing of "WIMP" coming from inside the castle.

The double black sighed to himself. Yes, it was going to be another long night.

* * *


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

The sound of a pair of well worn leather boots stormed through the castle. And the all too familiar bellowing of "WIMP" could be heard echoing, too.

Almost immediately, Gwendal opened the door to his quarters. This time, the tantrum was more than welcome. Wrapping himself in a dark green robe and pushing his feet into his shoes, Gwendal strode after what he was sure would be an irate blonde heading back to the maou's bedroom. He smiled to himself.

Gwendal turned the corner and ran into Conrad—similarly dressed. He had heard Wolfram from his quarters near where the soldiers were housed. The brothers exchanged looks of relief as they walked briskly to catch up to their sibling. But when they turned down another hallway, they saw Wolfram disappear into a different bedroom much further away from the maou's.

"What's he doing?" Gwendal asked.

"I think he's trying to go back into his old bedroom," Conrad returned with a bit of worry.

"But, since he moved in with the maou—_gradually_," Gwendal said back with a tart and slightly impatient tone, "we just turned that room into storage."

"He's going to be really upset once he figures that—"

"WHERE, THE HELL, IS MY ROOM?!"

"…out…" Conrad sighed and put a hand to his head.

The angry blond's voice was so loud that everyone along that hallway popped out of their doors to see what was going on. Guards also came running until Gwendal gestured to them that everything was fine. "It's just Wolfram again," and that explanation seemed to satisfy everyone. It always did.

The door was open ajar. Cautiously, Conrad pulled it. They looked in to see Wolfram standing with his back to them. He was surveying the bedroom with his hands on his hips.

"Wolfram?" Gwendal said, trying to keep that thread of hope out of his voice. He'd learned long ago that false hope was the most painful feeling of all. Try as he might, it was there anyway and Conrad smiled at that a little.

The blond whipped around. His hair was longer than "cadet Wolfram's" and the uniform was skin tight against him. The pants were high water, too, as were the sleeves on his jacket.

"Is this some kind of joke?" Wolfram growled, looking at his brothers. He gestured to the boxes and crates in the room. He marched himself over to the window and opened it. Grains of dust began to circle in diminutive spirals on the windowsill.

"Where is my bed? My clothes? My things?" His face was serious. He was demanding answers and he wanted them _now_.

"Wolfram…as you can see…your bedroom is gone," Conrad said. "But, it's great to have you back!" He was smiling now. "You've been sick for awhile now." He added that last part as an afterthought because of the emerald glare that was being sent this way.

_Oh, please_, Gwendal thought. _Please, let this be the last time that I have to explain this to Wolfram. I'm getting tired of it._

"We had this space available once you moved…into…" Gwendal's voice trailed off. Maybe Wolfram's memory was still fuzzy.

"This doesn't make sense," Wolfram interrupted, looking up at his older brother.

"Why?" Conrad asked and got a frown thrown his way.

"Look, Weller, I wasn't talking to you," he snapped.

"Weller?" Gwendal parroted. He pinched the bridge of his nose to fight off the headache that was slowly coming to him. Closing his eyes helped, too.

"Something is really wrong here," Wolfram said, giving his brother an angry look with his head tilted back to see into his eyes better. "Gwendal, this morning, my room had a bed in it…a desk…maps…my paper and quill…" He raked his finger against the window and it came away filthy. "Nothing can get this dirty this fast…even if the maids didn't come in here this morning."

Conrad folded his arms and sighed at the floor. "What is the last thing you remember?"

The blond's eyes widened at that. He remembered. He suddenly found himself under an apple tree in the dark with that Yuuri "person" whom he barely knew—the same guy who had just proposed to him three hours ago with a hard slap on the cheek. Oh, he appeared innocent at dinner. But, apparently, the double black had taken a liking to him after all and spirited him away in the dead of night for a quick and quiet tryst. That must have been what happened. But, beyond that, Wolfram remembered only blinding pain all over his body—but especially his arms and legs, as though being stretched. He was in Yuuri's lap, being held tightly, too. _Only, I'm not a tart! And this is just one more reason to duel that perv in the morning. _The thought of Yuuri's face pinched in fear made him glow with pride. And killing a false maou as one of the loyal nobles of the kingdom made him happier still.

"We can turn the room back, if that's what you want," Gwendal said, hoping for a better response from his brother than the blank, distant look that he was getting at the moment.

"I think I can remember what we did with Wolfram's old bed," Conrad chimed in. "I'll direct the maids in the morning about clean up, too. And these old boxes are Mother's to begin with. So, she should do a little spring cleaning anyway."

While they chatted, Wolfram turned his head from one brother to the other. "You're both talking as though I haven't been here in ages." He gave them worried looks.

Conrad waited for Gwendal's expression to tell him that it was fine to respond to that statement. He got a nod. Yes, their brother needed to know. "That's because it's true." Conrad ended it with a soft shrug.

The blond said between gritted teeth, "It…can't…be." His fists were clinched.

"Look for yourself!" Gwendal barked back, turning his brother around. "In your mind, it was clean and bright this morning with furniture and clothes in the closet. But, now, it's just an old, dusty room with boxes in it. And, see for yourself, the closet is empty."

Wolfram turned his head in the direction of the closet. It was open. But, there was nothing in it except a few hangers and some dust.

"It must be a bit disconcerting," Conrad added. He started to reach out and touch Wolfram on the head the way he used to back when he was very little. But, quickly, Conrad retracted the hand when he got another stern glare.

"Then, if time has passed… How much?" He was almost afraid to ask.

"As we've asked before, what is the last thing _you_ remember doing before you… 'woke up?' That would be a good starting point."

The blond nodded and said, "That Yuuri person slapped me at dinner." At that, the youngest brother blinked up to see that both Conrad and Gwendal were just standing there with their mouths hanging open a little.

The awkward pause made the blond's heart beat harder.

"That happened about three years ago," Gwendal told Wolfram.

The blond backed away, shaking his head "no."

"I've lost…three years…?" Wolfram paled at that. He took a few more uncomfortable steps. But, his boots were feeling much too small for him right now. His toes were curled up and hurting. So, his balance was off more than a little. He staggered.

"But, we are supposed to have a duel tomorrow!"

"It already happened," Gwendal gruffed.

"Then, I didn't kill him in the duel after I was slapped?" His mind just couldn't process a duel where neither one of them had died. And, in his opinion, the total wimp _should have_ died.

"Of course not, Wolfram." Gwendal's tone bordered sarcastic. "Isn't it obvious? You just stormed into the castle shouting the word "wimp." So, nobody's dead."

The short blond folded his arms defensively. After being slapped at dinner, Wolfram had promised himself that he would defeat, and probably kill, the false maou. He was deeply disappointed.

"What's obvious to me is a dusty room with no bed and no clothes to sleep in."

Emerald eyes spied his brothers giving each other secretive looks again. He didn't like it. He didn't like it at all.

"I'll show you to another bedroom where you can sleep," Conrad said and then quickly added, "until we get this one ready for you again."

Wolfram nodded and walked behind Conrad, exiting the room without giving Gwendal a second thought. That administrator brother of his was in a mood anyway, Wolfram decided. But that still left him with his other brother to deal with. And Conrad could be a pain, too, when he wanted to be.

On the way, Conrad could feel his brother's eyes watching him. Without looking, he said, "You wanted the truth, right?"

"Of course, Weller." The tone was pouty. His feet hurt and the darn trousers were doing more than just riding up in an uncomfortable place. It felt like the material was sawing him in half with each step. Then, he looked down at himself for the first time. "What the hell?"

Conrad opened the door and gestured for him to go inside. Almost immediately, Wolfram began tugging at the undersized blue uniform. And quickly the coat and the boots were tossed on the floor in a heap.

"What idiot dressed me as a cadet?" Wolfram's face was red with embarrassment. "Is this a joke?"

"It's no joke. You've been…sick," Conrad said, "and you haven't kept most of your memories when you were…um…ill…"

The pants were on the floor and Wolfram reached in the closet to grab a nightshirt. It was white and plain—standard military issue. "This is so stupid," he growled. "And can someone, please, get me the right uniform and some bigger underwear."

He heard a snicker from behind him, and the nightshirt bunched up in his hand when he made a fist.

"That was not bragging, by the way." He added a very tart "Weller" to the end of his request.

Starting to put on the nightshirt, the blond stopped when the door flung itself open and a very out of breath Yuuri entered the room. "Wolfram, I'm so sorry about earlier and I…"

It was at that point that Yuuri's brain finally processed something particularly important—that Wolfram was standing in front of him wearing only a pair of white, form fitting, underwear that cut up the back and showed every curve off beautifully. And even though he'd seen Wolfram undress countless times over the years and had shared the bath with him, Wolfram had, in Yuuri's opinion, never looked this good before.

"I'm…" Yuuri blushed. "I'm…really sorry…"

"Are you sorry about earlier or sorry about right now?" Wolfram said darkly, throwing the white night shirt on quickly. There was a "humph" when he did it. But, putting on the nightshirt didn't help, exactly. Yuuri's eyes were drawn to the fact that the fireplace behind the blond was casting light and making the silhouette of Wolfram's lean body stand out sharply against the night shirt. He couldn't tear his eyes away.

"E-Earlier? Oh…under the tree?" He caught stern green eyes and found it, suddenly, much easier to stare down at the floor. "Both, I guess…"

Conrad smiled secretively. "Well, Wolfram, if you want me to have someone bring you larger clothes, they'll want to know what size." For a second, Conrad chastised himself for doing this, but it was just too much fun.

"Size?" Yuuri said, wanting to be a bit helpful now. Maybe, Wolfram would lighten up on him a little. "I know what sizes he wears."

"You…do?" Wolfram mumbled, hiding surprise as best he could.

"Of course!" Yuuri said happily. "Let me bring some of your clothes to you. It's no problem at all."

A blond eyebrow arched at that. _Why would a maou do a maid's work? Wait! Come to think of it… _"How would you know where my clothes are?" the blond said, not wanting the answer but asking anyway.

"Oh," the double black returned as he went for the door, "you sleep in my room."

When he saw Wolfram blanch at that, Yuuri added, "Oh, don't worry. We let Greta sleep between us."

When the door shut, Wolfram ran over to Conrad, pulled him down eye to eye by his collar, and demanded answers by saying, "Our new maou is a perv, isn't he?"

* * *

Yozak, still dressed as a farmer, rode down the lane at a lazy pace. He was tugging at his collar in the hopes of getting it to ride up on his neck higher to hide the darkened hickeys that had mysteriously appeared there. He fingered them a little and marveled at how they weren't that painful—he'd had worse before. He'd discovered these little beauties in the mirror when he was shaving this morning and gave a crooked smile at the thought of Connie. The girl certainly had talent.

It was a cool morning but the sun was warming things up a little. So, he tried to ride in the middle of the road to avoid the cold shadows. He thought he would pay a quick visit to the Meigers on the way out of town. It might be good to see what they looked like up close—and to pretend to sell them some apples to start a conversation.

Very slowly, the Meiger farm came into view.

"Oh, no," Yozak muttered under his breath. "The carriage is gone. It was parked out front yesterday."

He rode a little closer to the right side of the road, now, to watch the fields out of the corner of his eye. His eyes picked up a sea of green plants five centimeters high. But there was nothing beyond that. No people.

Wondering if he should or not, Yozak passed the farm and tied up his horse a little further down the road against a bush. He circled back to the farm and watched it for an hour. There was nobody and nothing going on. But he did notice that the carriage had been moved to the front of the property.

_They went out early this morning and came back_, he thought.

Yozak's ears picked up horse hooves on the dirt road and ducked back into the shadow of the trees. As long as his own horse kept quiet, everything should be fine.

In the next few minutes, Yozak noticed that the horses sounded like they were actually picking up speed as they headed his way. He cringed a little inside. Was there a spy out there with him? Could they tell where he was? Who he was? The sound was growing louder. He ducked down behind a tree as low as he could go.

The danger passed him by.

"Look, you assholes, there's the place!" one man shouted. The horses all took a left and stopped at the the Meiger farm.

Slowly, Yozak straightened up from his hiding place and peeked around the tree. A grin was spreading across his face. He couldn't believe his luck.

* * *

"Yuuri!" Greta said happily. She waved her arms at him. "I'm over here!"

"So, I see…" Yuuri replied, walking into the room casually with one hand in his trouser pocket. "Did you know that it's lunch time?" He could barely see Greta standing on the other side of the lab. There was just too much equipment. Today, he noted, she was wearing a copy of the same outfit that Anissina usually wore—sans the red ponytail. He had to admit that the outfit looked good on his daughter. Then, when he really thought about it, even a potato sack would look good on her. She was that darling.

"Lunch? Nope, but I do now!" The child grinned brightly at him.

The double black looked around. "Where's Anissina? This is her lab after all." He made a mental note to tell the inventor that Greta was not allowed to be all alone in the lab. She could easily do herself a mischief.

There was suddenly a devious grin on Greta's dimpled face. It told him all he needed to know. "So, she's gone out to fetch Gwendal back here…" he began and saw a tiny head shaking "yes" eagerly "… to try out a new invention, huh?" He sighed impatiently and crossed his arms. "Why does she have to do that now? I'm hungry." Greta laughed at the minor whining by her daddy. It was cute.

"Oh, and look what she taught me to do!"

Yuuri smiled benignly but hoped against hope that it wasn't something dangerous. Luckily for him, Greta pulled out a white paper airplane. She stroked the sides to make them sharper and gave it a go—sailing it over the lab. She chased after the airplane, skipping around power cords and tables, with giggles.

"I like those, too," Yuuri said. "They're a lot of fun. In fact, I was the one who taught Anissina how to make them." Gently, he caught the plane and handed it over. Then, just for fun, he caught Greta up in his arms, too. She squirmed and laughed. "And no running in the lab," he whispered.

"Right!" Then, she thought about it a little more. "Did you really teach her about paper airplanes?" Her brown eyes wide. "I thought Anissina knew everything."

"Yup, I had lots of practice in class when the teacher was not…so…ummm…you know….umm…interesting."

"Kinda like Günter's lessons?"

She got a cheesy grin and a bunch more "umms" and "uhhhhhs" that told her she was right. Greta winked back knowingly.

"There you are," a voice from the door complained.

Both Yuuri and Greta looked over to see a certain blond soldier leaning casually against the door frame. "We're supposed to eat soon."

The double black seemed mildly surprised to see him. Yuuri gave him a small smile and watched with satisfaction as the blond folded his arms, turned his head away, and gave a dissatisfied "humph."

"It's Wolfram!" Greta said, she came running up to the blond. And, in the fraction of a second that followed, the blond caught Yuuri's flash of fear. He'd tried, unsuccessfully, to hold her back. Yuuri's hand grasped at air instead and, a few steps later, the child flung herself at her other father.

"It's so great to have you back!" She hugged him with genuine warmth, her face buried into his shoulder.

The hug from the strange child was a surprise. In the real world, that sort of thing would never have happened between a human and a Mazoku. Wolfram's eyes took a small glance at Yuuri. He saw the fear again. Exactly what Yuuri was so worried about, he didn't know. This was only a human child—and a small one at that. She couldn't do him any harm. But, Yuuri's reaction, there was no mistaking it.

"So, you missed me?" Wolfram said to her, kneeling down. He saw it again—a look of dread now.

Yuuri opened his mouth to say something he hoped to keep between the two of them in the usual "half-coded parent speak" that Yuuri and Wolfram had developed between them over time. In his heart, he needed Wolfram to remember that much--or, at least, to have him wise enough to recognize it when it was used.

"Do you know, Wolfram, that I played with you when you were a baby?" Greta prattled. "And, when you were older, you liked to have cookie breaks with me."

The blond smirked at that. _Oh, I see… She has a big imagination and she talks a lot. Maybe, that's what the maou is worried about. He thinks that I'll see her as a liar._

"Uh, Wolfram?"

Emerald eyes turned to him.

"This is our…I mean, this is my daughter, Greta."

Wolfram's face took on an expression of total shock. This "Greta" was the name Yuuri mentioned last night. Wolfram looked from the child, who appeared to be clearly human, to the new maou who was, obviously, half Mazoku.

_How did this happen? _Wolfram just stood there, not able to think of something to say. Not even when Yuuri gave him that "just go along with this, you idiot" vibe with his eyes did the expression change.

"You mean, he doesn't know me?" Greta said with hurt in her voice. Her lower lip trembled a bit, too. "I'm not worth…remembering, Yuuri?"

"Greta," Yuuri said soothingly.

"Will you forget me, too? Will I be alone again, Yuuri?" Her eyes welled up with tears and she crunched her paper airplane into a ball—tossing it up in the air. It landed high on top of a shelf of books that Anissina had "borrowed" from the library.

Yuuri kneeled down to hug her, but she backed off quickly while trying to rub tears out of her eyes.

"I'm sorry," Wolfram said. He really was. Making a child—any child—cry was almost unbearable. He'd been in too many battles where the crying of children pierced the backdrop of the scene. He truly hated the sound.

This time, Yuuri gave him a heated stare, the kind only parents can give. Wolfram recoiled a little.

"Cecile?!" Greta yelled, running out of the room with more tears sliding down her face.

Yuuri and Wolfram watched her go. The double black turned to him with a frown. "I was trying to avoid this," he said darkly. "It would have been better if you had just tried to humor her."

Wolfram, getting his composure back, rested his hands on his hips.

"I didn't know she was your daughter."

"That's 'our daughter,' if you didn't know. Because, you always say so."

"Always?" The blond scowled. "Okay, I've lost three years. So, fill me in on how she's my daughter, too."

The double black narrowed his eyes. "Once we're married," Yuuri huffed as he began to climb the bookcase, "she'll be your child as well."

"Oh, yeah. That 'engagement' thing," Wolfram growled back, watching the maou climb the ancient, wooden bookcase with mild annoyance.

"You really think that we, of all people, are going to get married?" He raised a curious, blond eyebrow.

He stopped climbing, opened his mouth to retort, and then gave up on it. He resumed his slow and steady climb. Now, the double black was almost at the top. There was dust everywhere and he wanted, desperately, to rub his nose. This tickling was just at the edge of his nostrils and the sensation was overwhelming—dancing just enough to make his eyes water and his skin turn pink. He tried to rub his nose on his sleeve. No luck. His shoulder had to do, but he looked like an idiot doing it. He could hear Wofram chuckle from down below. He glared down at the blond.

"You didn't answer my question, _Maou_, but here's another one. Why are you doing this?" He pointed to the shelf with a shaking finger. It was ludicrous. "Just get a maid or one of the servants. That's what they're for."

"Listen, 'Little Lord Brat,' Yuuri barked to the man below him, "those servants and maids are people, too. And you will treat them well because they care about you more than you know." He frowned and then his eyes shot open. "Whoa!!" He slipped on some papers that were loose. His shoes making a shooshing, slippery-sliding sound on paper. He clung onto the sides of the bookcase. His foot barely found an old dictionary to get traction on. His heart started beating hard.

"Yuuri!" Wolfram wailed. It was a reflex, he knew, but he could hear himself cry out. The tone was pained and panicked. His arms were reaching for the bookcase before he could stop them.

"I'm fine!" Yuuri called from above. He'd heard his name and, as mad as he was at 'this Wolfram,' he could hear the tone of the one he wanted most of all. That Wolfram wasn't lost to him. And that made the double black feel better.

"Just one more step," Yuuri said while reaching up and retrieving the broken paper airplane. He would fix it and hand it back to Greta later as an apology. While he was at it, he'd make Wolfram say he was sorry, too.

The double black looked over his shoulder. The rise to the top didn't seem that high after all. If he wanted to, he could probably jump down and avoid that slippery shelf with the loose papers and the dictionary. He'd have to land just right, though.

"I'm coming down!"

"Just do it," Wolfram called impatiently. Then, to his surprise, there was a black form falling from above. It swooped down upon him.

Then, he caught it and almost dropped it.

Steadying himself, Yuuri grabbed onto Wolfram. His nails dug into the blue uniform, feeling himself teetering backwards. He overcompensated, and both Yuuri and Wolfram tumbled fowards against Anissina's wooden desk. The results of her latest research flew down to the floor in a rushed wave. Wolfram found himself with his back against the desk and the double black on top of him. It didn't help matters that his legs were parted and Yuuri was pressing down in all sorts of sensitive places.

Emerald eyes widened. _Did he do this on purpose? Is he really a perv? I'd never hand myself over to anyone who'd trick me like this._ He could feel himself getting angry—really angry. Then, the blond noticed that Yuuri's lips were only a centimeter away from his own. He could feel the panicked, panting breath against them. The double black was trying to gasp for air and his whole body shook with the effort. And it made Wolfram's heart beat harder.

_What am I doing? This__ whole thing was an accident—again. And when he slapped me, it was an accident. Weller said he was too ignorant of our ways, being from Earth,_ the blond thought sourly. _We really should just give up and go our separate ways before we…_

The wide-eyed double black's face began to slacken a little with each forced breath. Being like this, together, felt _different-- _but not bad. Not threatening. Natural, really. The look was soft, now, and he leaned in. His hands went to Wolfram's shoulders, pressing them down against the desk as well.

The blond allowed it.

"Wolfram," he whispered, leaning in. Their lips met hesitantly, gently. Yuuri leaned into the kiss and the blond raised his chin.

"Ahem!" A snicker followed.

Both Wolfram and Yuuri's heads shot up in the direction of the sounds. Very quickly, they both drained of color.

In the open doorway stood Gwendal and Anissina.

"I've never used my desk for that purpose before," she purred happily.

Gwendal stood rooted to the spot, large eyes protruding and fists clinched. Both Yuuri and Wolfram could read the "get, the hell, off of my baby brother or you are in for some real pain" heated glare that was being sent in their direction. The teeth grinding didn't go unnoticed, either.

It didn't matter that they'd slept together for three years.

It didn't matter that they'd bathed together.

It didn't matter that they were engaged.

It didn't matter that Yuuri was the maou.

Wolfram whispered to his fiancé, "Do something. Or we're both going to die."

"Do what?" Yuuri mumbled back, with a "deer in the headlights" fright clearly visible—which only increased the bad aura I the room.

"Well, I'd start by getting off of me."

* * *


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

It was, by far, the most uncomfortable luncheon that Yuuri had ever been to. The double black squirmed inwardly as he approached the table and pulled his chair back. Sitting down, he looked around and sighed to himself.

_Not good…definitely not good…_

Word quickly got around thanks to Anissina—who had disappeared down the hall the second that Yuuri and Wolfram had gotten off the desk and straightened their jackets a bit. Brushing down their clothes in embarrassment, which would break eye contact with Gwendal for a few seconds, didn't really help them, either.

Right now, Yuuri was faced with a secretive smile from Conrad, broad grinning from Cecile, an overjoyed Gisela and a pouting Günter . The double black withdrew a little from Gwendal's glare that held the promise "We are going to have a discussion about _this_ later on." Yuuri also noticed that Greta was there, but her face was still pinkish from crying and her lower lip was stuck out like Günter's. Yuuri decided to talk to her after the meal was over. Maybe, she'd listen better if she had something to eat.

"Oh, where is Wolfram?" Cecile asked the table, stirring the pot a little just to see what would happen.

"He went back to Anissina's lab for a second—_alone_—" Gwendal said with a steely glare towards Yuuri "—to get something."

"Oh," Yuuri said with a fake laugh, tugging at his collar a little. _Great, he leaves me alone with these people…_

Almost immediately, Wolfram entered the room with his hands behind his back. His walk was casual and his smile a little embarrassed. His head was tilted down towards the floor. But, being Wolfram, his face was beautiful no matter what. And his body had that lithe quality that made his strolling gate seem ethereal. Yuuri could understand why it was so hard to be cross with him for any length of time. Exactly, why he'd never noticed it before was because he simply didn't want to. And, when you ignore the truth, it makes it harder on everybody.

Instead of taking the only empty seat next to his fiancé, Wolfram circled around to Greta's place at the table. He knelt down on one knee, in knightly fashion, and said loud enough to where the whole table could hear, "I'm sorry, Greta." He offered her the paper airplane. "I tried to straighten it out the best that I could, but it's still kind of wrinkled." Her eyes widened when he handed it over. "And I'm sorry that I don't remember you.

But, I don't remember a lot these days and I've been sick lately." Greta grinned broadly at him. "Forgive me?"

His answer was a pair of pudgy arms around his neck squeezing hard.

"Little Lord Brat…apologizing?" Günter mumbled to Gwendal.

The reply was a shrug from the administrator. Then, eyes narrowed in Yuuri's direction. The double black could feel it and choked into his drink when Gwendal added, "I guess the maou has been rubbing off on him."

* * *

From his hiding place, Yozak could see the group of five men from the tavern standing in front of the Meiger's house. The door was open and a young woman with mousey brown hair and slate colored dress with a black leather work apron answer the door.

"One minute," came a woman's voice, "I'm in the workshop. I'll be at the door in a second." The front door to the house opened very slowly. She stepped through, dusting her hands off with a sour look. Then, her eyes widened when she realized who she was talking to. "What are you fools doing here?!" she bellowed loud enough for the whole town to hear.

"Look, it's like this, see…" said the elder with the grey hair coming out of his ears which was being tossed a little in the breeze. He pulled the fat nosed one closer up and grabbed his wrist, shoving the whole hand up before the girl's face. "My little brother, here, cut his hand on one of the arrows when he was looking at it."

The wound was three centimeters long in the palm on the hand. Even thought the bleeding had stopped, it was already swelling and making blood blisters.

"Dolt! You can't cut yourself from just looking at something," she yelled in frustration, hands on her hips.

Yozak smirked at that.

"Well, Marelda," the man went on in a pushy tone, "poison is poison. Your family made these things. So, ya gotta do somethin' about it before he dies. And do it now!" The men around him grunted in agreement.

Marelda was many things, but she was no fool. The woman noticed all too quickly that she was getting some angry and determined looks from the five men standing before her. Considering their line of work, it would probably be best to humor them and send them on their way—again.

"Fine! Fine!" she griped, letting the men into her house somewhat reluctantly. "But, that poison is designed to kill Mazoku. All it will do for a human is make you vomit for a few days."

"Well, what will the antidote make me do?" fat nose whined.

"Vomit."

The door slammed.

Yozak walked back a few paces, sat down next to a tree, and kept a quiet watch on the house. He'd give them another hour or so. Then, he'd send a messenger bird back to the castle to keep Gwendal informed of the situation. Yes, they definitely had a problem. And it's name was Marelda Meiger.

* * *

The sky was dark and the stars twinkled at him. Once again, Wolfram was on the steps leading to the garden, leaning back and watching the night sky. He looked for his favorite constellations and enjoyed what he saw as pinprick fires in the sky. The cool, dark blue and the warmth of diminutive flames—in one place—together.

Wolfram produced a fire ball and then shaped it into a lion. He kept it several centimeters above the lawn so that the gardeners wouldn't be mad in the morning from the torched grass. More importantly, he admitted to himself, so that his _big brother_ wouldn't be mad at him and complain…and complain…and complain…and complain. Gwendal had a habit of griping at him for long periods of time when he truly irritated him. Considering the compromising position that he was caught in today with Yuuri, and how he'd ever live that one down he didn't know, it would be best not to irritate Gwendal for awhile.

The fire lion ran into the sky and burst into a thousand specks of light. For some reason, that Wolfram didn't understand, he wanted to see firebugs right now. He had an impression…a feeling…that he'd been on these steps before and saw them. It was a dreamy image in his head that he couldn't hold on to. But, the one thing that he did know was that, at that time, he felt safe…loved.

Wolfram created another ball of flame in his hand. This time, instead of the red and yellow flames, he tried to make them blue. The fire ball spat at him and made crackling noises. Wolfram concentrated harder and pushed. He never had to concentrate with the yellow flames, but getting blue was much harder and his eyebrows narrowed. Then, suddenly, the yellow flames died away and a blue orb was spinning in his hand. Wolfram smiled to himself.

"I didn't know you could do that."

Wolfram turned his head and saw Yuuri standing behind him. The blond blinked in surprise and the flame extinguished.

Darkness fell.

"Can I join you?"

Wolfram nodded a "yes," trying hard not to look too eager, and scooted over to let Yuuri sit next to him. They both looked a little shy. This had been the first time that they'd been together since getting caught that day.

"You know, this kind of feels like déjà vu to me," Yuuri said simply. He wasn't sure if he should bring up the fact that he'd done this the previous night with a younger Wolfram.

"So," Wolfram said, his emerald eyes turning to Yuuri, "you've watched the stars while on a date with someone else." It was said almost in the tone of a question, but with a thread of jealousy in it, too.

_Typical Wolfram_, Yuuri thought. Nonetheless, it felt good. It felt like having the old Wolfram back. "He didn't think it was a date," Yuuri said with a short laugh.

_It was a "he?" _Wolfram raised a blond eyebrow at that but decided to let it drop when remembering the "..didn't think it was a date" part.

"I just got back from Gwendal's office," Yuuri continued. He noticed the sudden concerned look on the blond's face. "It's okay, though, he didn't yell at me too much."

"You're the maou. He shouldn't have yelled at you at all."

"You're his brother," Yuuri said soothingly, "and you've been sick. I know that Conrad hasn't filled you in about everything, but…you have been sick. And…I think…Gwendal was just reminding me of that."

Wolfram chuckled a little. "Well, don't take his side because…" His eyes darted at the double black. "I'm not sorry about…well…the kiss."

"It was a lot more than the kiss that upset Gwendal."

Another chuckle beside him.

"It's not like that was the first time I've ever been caught by him." Wolfram resisted the urge to laugh into his hand.

"Not…the…first?" Yuuri said in a half whisper, not believing what he was hearing.

"Come on, Yuuri," Wolfram said, "I'm in my 80's. What do you think?"

Yuuri couldn't help but feel disappointed at that. He'd always assumed that Wolfram had been like himself—alone and occupied with something like baseball, not looking for romance or companionship other than, maybe, friendship.

Wolfram blinked at him a little. "Oh, you're a virgin," he said with a sudden realization.

Yuuri put his head in his hands. "Do you have to make it sound like that? Sheesh, Wolfram."

The blond put his elbow against one knee and leaned his face into his palm. "What's your problem with being a virgin? I don't see anything wrong with waiting for your special person. I wish I had…actually."

Yuuri shot him a disbelieving look.

The blond ran his fingers through his hair. "For me, it meant nothing…and, I suppose…because of that…it ended everything." He looked up into the sky again. "They didn't love me for me anyway. I was just a 'pretty' prince and they couldn't handle my attitude."

Yuuri was glad that it was dark because he couldn't help but smirk at that. Sometimes, he wondered if he could handle the feisty blond, too.

"Well, Gwendal wants me to give you some distance until you feel better."

"Don't," Wolfram said quietly.

"Huh?"

"I like being with you." His eyes were still on the sky. It was easier that way.

Yuuri felt his face getting warm. He had the urge to suddenly pull the blond into his arms and to kiss him again just like they did on the desk. This was such a change compared to the way he'd felt about Wolfram before. But, not touching Wolfram right now felt so lonely.

"Wolfram?"

"What?"

The blond stretched a little.

"Would it be okay if I…?" Yuuri leaned in. Dark eyes met curious green ones. "I mean, what I want to say is… Can I…? A hesitant hand was on a blue uniformed shoulder, pulling the blond closer.

"Kiss me," Wolfram said, pressing his lips against Yuuri's.

Within a few minutes, the blond broke the kiss. Yuuri was gasping for air and breathing hard but was happy.

"Next time," Wolfram said, "breathe through your nose." He tapped Yuuri's button nose with an index finger. Then, he wrapped his arms around the double black and pulled him closer. "It looks like you'll just have to give it another go. Practice makes perfect."

Yuuri chuckled when the arms around him tightened.

In a delicious, sexy voice, Wolfram whispered in his ear, "I want you to kiss me, Yuuri."

Yuuri's heart almost stopped at that. Was this really Wolfram?

"You're taking too long," purred the voice beside him.

A strong hand found the nape of the double black's neck and slid softly into his hair—black hair spilling through his fingers. The gentle touch guided Yuuri forward and he surrendered.

On the stairs, they kissed wet in the moonlight while the stars watched.

* * *

It was a wonderful party. By Blood Pledge Castle's standards, it was a relatively small affair with glittering crystal, candles burning, and a quartet playing in the background. The women were all wearing their finest—looking like the beautiful butterflies that they actually were. A small group of men stood around a table with drinks, talking in low voices. Occasionally, one would laugh out loud. Maybe, it was a little too loud, but the others would quickly join in.

There was another couple chatting in front of the guard that was posted by the rear exit. Two more, in fine uniforms, were posted at the front. Standing near the corner of the drinks table, wearing one of his best outfits, was Gwendal. He had a glass of wine that he was pretending to be drinking. He swirled the dark red liquid in the glass and frowned into it. His sharp eyes caught Conrad and Yozak in the far corner, talking in low voices. Yozak was especially well dressed tonight in a dark grey suit and caught the eye of many in the room because of it. But, at the moment, the blue eyed man seemed to be consoling Conrad in his typical, soft spoken voice that he only reserved for the people he truly cared about. Gwendal nodded. He understood why. Then, he looked for his mother but didn't see her. Instead, he saw a woman approaching who could have easily been a brunette version of her—long hair in ringlets, slinky red dress, and large breasts that shook when she laughed. She was hanging onto the arm of a slightly put out Günter. The face that the advisor was trying _not_ to make was giving Gwendal a flicker of amusement. It was a moment's respite from his own pain.

"We are on our way to see the maou," Günter said tartly as the two of them passed him by.

_She must have really twisted his arm_, Gwendal thought and took a sip of his drink. His eyes followed lazily.

Yuuri chatted quietly with Murata and his daughter, Greta. Their faces seemed almost pleasant, but not on any account was it for their own sakes. It was obvious that Yuuri hadn't been sleeping. He had dark circles under his eyes and his hair fell limp. The bright and innocent shine to his black eyes had gone, too. Yuuri was holding the same drink that he'd started with that evening. He hadn't touched a drop.

"Your majesty," Günter said, suddenly interrupting them. He straightened up a little, with more than just minor annoyance, when the lady next to him stepped forward, curtsied, and said, "Hello, my name is Marelda Meiger. And, I'm so sorry about the death of your fiancé, Lord Wolfram von Bielefeld."

The dream-vision ended.

In the darkness of her own bedroom, Marelda sat up and chuckled to herself. In bed, she pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. "Yes! It can still happen. I can _make it_ happen…"

* * *


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

"I knew if I stood here long enough, you'd find me," Murata said, leaning casually over the balcony outside of the Blood Pledge Castle Dining Hall. It was a beautiful night and the breeze felt good against his skin.

There was no need to look. He didn't bother. Murata had gotten to the point where he could "feel" Shinou before actually seeing him. It was a kind of anticipation followed by an almost thrilling sensation that filled his chest.

The ghostly image of Shinou, dressed in all of his finery, approached Murata and pretended to show disinterest as he seemed to lean against the railing, too.

"I've found you," Shinou murmured deeply, his tone was amused. "Then again, my sage, you could be anywhere in this world, and I would find you again—eventually."

Murata sighed impatiently. This kind of thing always happened when the two of them were alone together.

"I get the impression that you are up to something." A black eyebrow twitched up, but that was the most that Murata was going to reveal about himself.

"Maybe," Shinou purred, "but it's far _too early_ to tell just yet."

"I'd say it was _late_, considering the hour." He motioned to the night sky. He was being clever. Then again, The Great Sage was always being clever. It was in his nature.

Shinou smiled slightly at that. "_Early_ and _late_ really depends on which side of the world you are standing on."

"I'm standing right here with you, Shinou," Murata said evenly while adjusting his glasses, "and I wish you'd just come out and tell me what you've been up to since possessing Lord von Bielefeld."

"Possessing? That's a little harsh, isn't it?" There was a shameless, wicked grin that followed. Then, Shinou laughed to himself in a "you've caught me" kind of way. "Actually, I was busy long before that."

"I had guessed."

Shinou cocked his blond head to one side. "Is that a …problem?" He was flirting now. This was fun. He had his sage's full attention and it was irritating the teen.

"It's a problem if you know something and won't tell me." The dark eyes were growing serious.

Shinou saw the look and knew it only too well. He dropped the 'cheerful' act. "As you wish…," he sighed. "Yes, I've been keeping an eye on a situation that I had suspected was coming from the moment my Wolfram was attacked."

"Your 'Wolfram'…? I've never heard you refer to him that way before," Murata observed, staring levelly at Shinou now. His voice was stern and Shinou hoped for a bit of jealousy to be mixed in it. But he detected none—which took some of the fun out of it.

"What have you done to him? Or, maybe from your view point, 'for him' would be a better wording."

Shinou looked down at himself—hands transparent and ghostly. "There's a reason why I'm in this form and not the small, solid one that sits on your shoulder."

"I'm listening," Murata said, looking more concerned all the time but trying to hide it or the former maou would drag this little drama out all night. The man could never just get to the point.

"I can't say yet."

"Of course, you can't," Murata said as a kind of dejected sigh. He should have known better than to get his hopes up.

"Let's just say that I've been traveling," he murmured darkly. "And there's something that needs my attention. So, you might not see me for awhile."

"Fine," Murata said, folding his arms on the balcony railing with his frustration thinly disguised as boredom. Now, he wished that Shinou really would disappear entirely.

The ghostly form drifted closer to Murata with a look of determination on his handsome face.

"But, when the time comes, I want you nowhere near Lord Wolfram von Bielefeld." He used the whole name with a crooked smirk. It did the trick. It got the sage's full attention.

"Why?" Eyes narrowed at the transparent figure.

"Because the future is never fully written. It is a thing 'yet to be.' Both you and I, though, can leave our mark on it—guide it and shape it—when it is necessary."

"You're meddling again."

"Maybe." Shinou whispered it close to Murata's ear.

"You know I don't have that kind of power," Murata almost grumbled, adjusting his glasses again to take a better look at the moon. He told himself that he really needed to get out of this night air. It was getting cold and smelled vaguely of rain.

"Oh, yes you do."

"That's enough."

* * *

Gwendal held Yozak's latest report in his hands. He had the sudden urge to crumple it and throw it into the trash. He wanted to protect his little brother more than anything. But, little by little, it was becoming impossible and he couldn't stop it.

"_From what I've seen, there's a definite connection between the Meiger family and the five remaining assassins. Right now, one of them has injured himself on a painted arrow and has been receiving an antidote from what appears to be the daughter, Marelda Meiger, an oracle wielder Mazoku. Reputation has it that she's, indeed, powerful…"_

Gwendal read the last part over and over again, tightening his fists on the report until the paper crumpled and ripped. Oracle wielders were trouble—pure and simple. In general, women were stronger than men—drawing heavily on their own maryoku , intuition, and instincts to shape the images that floated before their eyes. For most, it was like opening a picture book to a random page and looking at the image for a few seconds before the book slammed shut. But for some, the more powerful ones, they could focus on a topic and bring that before their eyes in a daydream or at night in a dream vision. Luckily, no one at Blood Pledge Castle, to Gwendal's knowledge, was an oracle wielder. For, if he found one, he'd boot them out of the castle. Simple fortunetelling was one thing, but oracle wielders were a whole other animal entirely.

"_It might be best to send me some backup in case I'm spotted…or 'traced'…to my present location…"_

"_Traced_, huh? Yes, oracle wielders have been known to trace someone once they've seen the person's face up close," he murmured darkly. Gwendal turned towards the window and wished dearly that he had a glass of wine in his hand. He could really use it with the day he'd had today.

Without knocking, Günter entered the room with a gentle stride. His hair flowed softly on his shoulders while his white cape seemed to defy gravity.

He took a few paces behind the administrator, reached out a hand to touch him, and quickly withdrew it. Gwendal sighed to himself, feeling the presence and smelling the unmistakable scent of lilac behind him.

"Günter…"

"What concerns you, Gwendal?" A frown was clearly in the voice behind him. The administrator didn't bother to turn around.

"This," he grumped and stared at the report that was clinched in his fist.

Günter reached around, took it, and smoothed out the page a little while reading the lines. There was a little melodramatic gasp at the beginning, but he found himself nodding by the end of it.

"Understand now?" Gwendal said, crossing his arms defensively.

"I understand more than you think," the king's advisor said. That got him a firm stare. "Gwendal," he began again cautiously, "What I didn't mention before…in front of the others…is…well… I believe I know Marelda Meiger." There was a sudden, cold stare directed at him. "And, I wouldn't be surprised if you did, too. You just don't realize it."

Gwendal turned his head to look at Günter. "And just how would that be?"

"She was here at Blood Pledge Castle…but…it was…a long time ago and best forgotten up until now."

* * *

A warm hand took Wolfram's. Gently, it pulled him up.

"Let's go to bed."

Wolfram blinked at that. "Um…" He felt himself turning pinkish. He was quite glad that it was dark out.

"Look, I'm tired," Yuuri said, rubbing his back with his opposite hand while wearing a blank expression. They'd been sitting on the stairs for awhile and he was getting stiff. "…And it's been a long day."

"Wimp," Wolfram muttered under his breath, not wanting to acknowledge that his body had been getting stiff, too, from the cool air and the hard steps under him. Just leaning against each other for the last fifteen minutes, watching the sky, had been wonderful. The blond was reluctant to let go.

"Come on, Wolfram," Yuuri said. Since Wolfram had started to "grow up," he had noticed that the blond would follow directions if they were phrased as a direct order. "Now." The response was a shrug. The double black finally realized that it was Wolfram's military training that made him do it. He smirked a inwardly.

This new little insight made Yuuri happy. But, as they neared the castle, Wolfram could feel a different kind of aura coming from his fiancé. The steps were shorter and almost hesitant. Yuuri's hand slackened a little, too.

His eyes cut to the double black.

_Yuuri…He's embarrassed to be holding my hand. He thinks other people will see us—and they would._ Wolfram sighed to himself and let go, much to Yuuri's surprise. Wolfram ignored it. He walked with a serious expression and his hands behind his back. _It might not be good for the soldiers or the guards to see me looking so love sick, so weak, in front of them, either. Come to think of it, I really have no past with him to go by. It still feels like I just met Yuuri. We're moving too fast, too._

The double black walked into the castle, trying to hide a worried expression. _Wolfram let go of me first. It's not that I wasn't thinking about it…but… Why did he let go first?_

"Are you feeling okay?" Yuuri asked, not slowing his pace.

"Fine," Wolfram said back, smoothing down his uniform while taking his usual, long strides.

As Yuuri and Wolfram walked down the hallway, the back of their hands would, occasionally, brush up against each other. At first, the blond thought it was an accident. To follow protocol, he really wasn't supposed to walk evenly with Yuuri. Instead, he was to walk a few paces behind him out of respect. But, when he slowed down, he noticed that Yuuri did, too, and then their hands would brush up against each other again.

When they got back to the bedroom, Wolfram looked around as though he'd never seen the place. His emerald eyes took in everything. Then, Yuuri understood.

"Is this room different than what you remember?"

Wolfram shrugged as a reply, went over to the window, and opened it. Then, he turned with his back to the window—looking at everything again—he just couldn't help it. His eyes were taking in the room again.

"It feels like it's been ages since I've been here. Before you came, my mother didn't use this room much. And, even when she did, it seemed really…well…not my taste, so to speak. We never did agree on décor." He looked away. "But, I've lost three years," he said and sat on the edge of the bed—on Yuuri's side. The double black folded his arms and felt a little worried. He just couldn't shake it. "But I'll be fine, though," the blond added as an afterthought.

Yuuri went to the closet and gathered his clothes. "I'm going to take a bath. Wanna come?" He was surprised when Wolfram said "no." He didn't move from his spot, either.

"Oh….okay…" Yuuri gave him one last look of concern and left the room.

Yuuri usually took at least forty-five minutes in the bath to scrub himself down and relax his troubles away. But, tonight, his mind kept drifting back to Wolfram and how lost he seemed. So, Yuuri took less than twenty minutes. And, soon, he was back with a towel draped over his head—rubbing off the last of the watery drops.

He pushed the door open cautiously and saw that Wolfram was sitting on the same edge of the bed in a pink, frilly nightie. Yuuri smiled openly at that.

"Wolfram." The name came to him with a soft chuckle. It had been awhile since the last time he'd seen the blond wearing it.

"What are you smiling at?" Wolfram said, his emerald eyes narrowed.

"He's mad?" Yuuri muttered, suddenly confused. "Is…is something wrong?" The double black stopped rubbing the water out of his hair and approached his fiancé.

"What could be wrong?" The blond's eyebrows were together and his mouth turned down.

"Well, something is," Yuuri said, refusing to allow Wolfram to push him into an argument. "I'd like to know what that is." He tossed the damp towel across a chair by the closet.

Silence answered him.

"Are you mad that I took a bath without you?" Yuuri sat next to him on the bed. "I offered…to have you… come along. At least, I think I did." He scratched his head, trying to remember the moment clearly. Then, he placed a gentle hand on Wolfram's shoulder. He noticed that the blond winced slightly and the stare grew darker.

_Oh, I get it now…_ He took a shallow breath.

_Wolfram's Life Lesson Number Six: Disguise pain as anger so that you don't appear weak. Nobody loves a weakling._

"Wolfram?"

"What?" Wolfram spat back.

"Where does it hurt?"

Emerald eyes widened at the double black. He opened his mouth to speak and then shut it again. It was all so difficult.

Yuuri leaned in close to a shell-like ear. "Answer me."

Green eyes softened at his words. "Everywhere."

Yuuri sat closer to Wolfram and ran his eyes over the blond. He didn't see any blood or bruising. "Explain."

When Wolfram didn't start rattling off a list of complaints, Yuuri leaned over again and stared directly into his eyes. "Tell me," he said sincerely. "It isn't weak. Just tell me."

The blond sighed and crossed his arms, but the movements were stiff and painful. "It sounds like complaining over nothing."

"It's never stopped you before."

A glare.

"I've lived with you for three years. So, I know you," Yuuri said, moving in closer. Now, they were sitting side by side, hip to hip. And, to his surprise, he was watching Wolfram—squirm? Odd. "So, do you wanna answer me…or what?"

Wolfram lowered his head in defeat, eyes shining from holding back the pain. "It really does hurt everywhere." Wolfram looked down at himself. "I feel like my bones ache. My legs throb. It kind of hurts on my side, too—not that I can't handle it." He turned his head away with a "humph," and stuck out his lower lip.

"Well, the side hurts because of the arrow wound. Gisela says that you'll be sore there for a long time to come." He tugged at the hem of Wolfram's nightie. "I can try to use some healing magic to help you deal with the pain, though."

"No," the blond said quickly, feeling himself embarrassed.

"Stand up, then," Yuuri said, not leaving Wolfram much room for counterarguments. He watched the blond stand up from the bed. And he faced him, and then placed his hand on top of Wolfram's head. He measured the two of them up. "We're pretty much the same size now," Yuuri murmured to himself.

"So?" Wolfram shot back, eyeing him.

_I've got a bad feeling that he's going to grow again in his sleep, Yuuri thought. And it hurt so much the last time. I'd better stay awake as long as I can with him tonight._

"We're going to bed. And you're sleeping here. No arguments." Yuuri was determined and pulled back the blankets on the bed to prove his point. "And that side, by the way," he pointed, "is yours."

Wolfram felt his face heating up. He nodded shakily but complied. He hiked his pink gown up, crawled up onto the bed, and slipped between some cool sheets that felt soft and clean against his skin. The bed dipped slightly as Yuuri followed closely behind.

The double black stretched slightly, grabbed the edge of the blankets, and pulled them up around them both.

Leaning his blond head against the pillow, Wolfram said, "Your hair smells like vanilla."

"Well, you smell like sunflowers. And, I've kind of…missed it…a little." There was a smile in his voice when he said it.

Then, strong arms came from behind Wolfram and grabbed him around the middle—pulling his body back against a blue pair of pajamas.

"Yuuri!" he said quietly. The blond's heart began to race. Then again, that evening, it wasn't the first time that Yuuri had done that to him.

"Shh!" came a playful voice in his ear. "Do you want the whole castle to hear us?"

Wolfram could feel their bodies together. They were spooned and Yuuri's body was warm against his back.

"Don't get any ideas," Wolfram murmured, "because I don't feel all that good tonight."

"Yes, dear. Tonight, you have a headache." There was another short chuckle as the double black laughed at his own joke.

"_What?_ Oh, you did not just say that!"

"Okay, okay…It's fine," Yuuri countered. He waved his hand and all of the candles in the room went out.

In the dark, Wolfram chewed his lower lip a little at that last thought. Deep down, he would have liked a bit of a protest from his new fiancé. And a part of him would have loved to make out. Just a little! But, instead, he decided to close his eyes and try to snooze. Then, he felt Yuuri's head pressed against his own, sharing the same pillow but the arms released him. The voice whispered, "I forgot that you're aching. I shouldn't have been so rough with you." Wolfram grabbed Yuuri's arms and forced them back as they were before.

"I'm no wimp," he mumbled.

"What was that, _Wolf_?"

"Oh, it's 'Wolf' now, huh? You're really pushing it tonight."

"What was that, _Wolfie_?"

"Ugh! You sound like my mother…"

"Then, what _did_ _you_ say? I could sleep alone, you know."

"I…ummm…"

"Well?"

There was a moment of silence as Wolfram mourned the death of his dignity. "I said…hold on to me…please…"

* * *


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Gwendal leaned his head back and pinched the bridge of his nose to fight off the migraine that he knew was coming. "It cannot be the same woman. It just—" He closed his eyes tightly. The brightness of the sconces burning in the office simply added to the effect. "I can't accept it."

"I recognized the name 'Marelda Meiger' right away." That got Günter a sharp look that quickly disappeared when Gwendal closed his eyes again.

"Gwendal, if you like, tomorrow morning…" he said quietly to keep the man's headache from getting worse, "I'll go back into the archives—you know the ones I'm talking about."

Without looking Gwendal nodded. He felt sick to his stomach now, too, at the very thought that this kind of information was archived.

"I'll research Ms. Meiger and see if my research can tell me what happened to her after she was…um… 'escorted'…away from Blood Pledge Castle."

There was a short "Hm" as a response which the advisor took to mean agreement.

"It was a long time ago," Gwendal said almost as an explanation. "It was embarrassing for everyone. Well, some more than others." His indigo eyes looked far away for a second. "I want to know more about this situation before we involve Heika or anyone else for that matter."

"I'll start right away," Günter stated plainly, "because, eventually, we will have to inform Heika…and your brothers…and…eventually…your mother."

Indigo eyes shot him an almost deadly glare that was met head on.

Günter sighed heavily but he knew he simply could not back down to Gwendal this time. The administrator was going to have to see reason in this situation.

"Or, would you have us _lie_?" Günter asked sincerely, finally dropping the foppish persona that he hid behind most of the time.

Without missing a beat, he said, "A lie would almost seem preferable."

"Would it?" Günter approached the desk with a set expression. "If things were reversed, is that the way you would want to be treated?"

"Couldn't we just act like Yuuri Heika with his engagement—and pretend the problem doesn't exist?"

"Did it solve his problem?" Violet eyes were leveled at him now.

"I hate it when you're serious," Gwendal complained, pinching the bridge of his nose harder.

"And I hate it when you try to carry the burden all on your own." Günter followed his statement with a girlish shrug and slipped back on the silly cocoon that he usually wore. "So, I'll take that as an order to do a bit of research tomorrow morning." The sing-songy voice came to the administrator's ears and he relaxed a bit.

"Yes."

"And I'll give you a report as soon as possible." He tried to sound enthusiastic even if it was phony.

Gwendal opened one eye at that. "Please do."

"Then," Günter said sincerely once more, "goodnight, Gwendal."

"There's nothing 'good' about it." He heard the wooden door open with a slight groan. "Günter?"

"Yes?" the man said, turning back.

"I'm…sorry."

Violet eyes turned away. "You have no idea how sorry I am." And with that, he disappeared from the room with the flourish of a white cape.

_How I'm going to protect them from this, I'll never know_. He folded his arms on the desk and rested his head against them. _Why did it have to be her? I would never have remembered if it weren't for Günter. Maybe, I didn't want to know…to remember…_

He closed his eyes and fell into a dream. He was a child again. And he could hear the adults in the next room arguing into the night. He wasn't afraid of it. But what he heard them say made him upset. Young Gwendal promised himself that he would protect them—protect them all—his precious people. There would be no greater duty other than, maybe, that to his country. And he made this vow of protection, above his own happiness—which he gladly traded for security.

* * *

It was early morning at the arranged meeting place. Yozak watched the dark blue sky of dawn. Stars twinkled briefly, paled, and blended themselves into the new day.

The orange haired man stood casually next to a tree, leaning against it with arms folded. He was still close enough to watch the Meiger farm without the danger of being spotted. At least, he hoped so. But, still, he needed to be far enough away to meet his contact. He prayed that it would be soon.

The sound slowly faded in. Yozak's ears picked up the unmistakable _clomping_ of a horse traveling at a leisurely pace. This was probably his backup. And he felt some disappointment. He'd hoped for at least three people with half way decent fighting skills in case they got caught. But his worry didn't end there, either. If his target, Marelda Meiger, got even a whiff of the fact she was being watched by him, she could probably use her oracle wielder gifts to track him down by the color of his aura which, Connie had told him while they were _indisposed_, happened to be orange—like his hair. Connie concluded that it was because Yozak was courageous, adventurous, and had lots and lots of _stamina_. (Not that she was complaining at all about the last part.)

Yozak felt warm all over at the thought of Connie, but tried to push thoughts of the slender mazoku, and her wandering hands, out of his mind as the contact neared him.

Yozak looked down at himself. His new disguise, brown trousers and a green shirt, made him blend into the forest in the early dawn. Yes, being dressed as a field hand helped. Though, he really wanted to wear that yellow dress that he'd bought in town. But, the shoes he had with him just weren't right.

"C-Conrad?" Yozak said shakily while stepping out of the bushes. He stared up at the brown haired man on the horse.

"Yozak." There was a mysterious smile that came with saying his name. He eased himself down from the horse to greet him. "What's the situation?"

"Situation…." Blue eyes blinked back at him. "Umm… Where are the others?" He looked for more people. Maybe the rest of their help would be coming along any minute.

"No, it's just me this time."

"Oh, I see…"

"We make a good team. And this concerns my brother. So, I convinced Gwendal to let us watch the house together." There was a kind but serious tone in his voice that easily won Yozak over. All worry and disappointment faded.

"Well, you're right. After all of these years, we do make a good team. I'll admit that," he said and flipped his orange hair out of his eyes.

"What have you been up to?" Conrad asked, surveying his companion and making the decision that, obviously, Yozak hadn't slept much lately because he seemed a tad slow on the uptake.

"Oh, right," the spy said back with a sheepish grin and a hand behind his head. "Let's go to my place…" His face darkened a little. "I mean, let's go to the place where I've been observing the house." He trudged a little ahead of Conrad, showing the way but, mentally, he was slapping himself.

_What am I feeling now? Guilt?_

"How long has it been since you slept?"

"Wha-?" He stopped in his tracks at the question. "Slept…?" he parroted. There was another long pause. "I guess, you could say that I'm… tired. Been busy… Yes, yes… All kinds of busy…"

"Obviously," Conrad said, frowning. "But it's not like you to wear yourself out like this. It's a good thing that I came after all."

Approaching them from the opposite end of the road was a horse and cart. It was carrying several large containers and wooden crates—which rattled with each bump that was hit. Noisy as it was, the deep rumbling sound was what caught their attention first.

Both men turned their heads and instinctively tensed up.

"Yozak?" a feminine voice called out. "Oi, it is you!" Her voice was excited now. "Y-o-z-a-k!" She practically sang the name and waved her diminutive hand in the air.

"You just had to use your real name, didn't you?" Conrad breathed, putting a hand to his head like his brother Gwendal was known to.

"YOZAK!"

A little stiffly, Yozak turned his head a bit more in the direction of the cart's driver. He didn't dare breathe. _Oh, hell!_ Here was Connie, shouting his name in the calm of the early morning and still waving her arm around.

_Shinou, you great pain in the ass, just throw a lightning bolt and strike me down now. Please?_ he muttered under his breath. The orange haired spy fought back a wince as she drew near.

"Oh, it really is you!" she said again and beamed.

"Connie," he said with a grin and gritted teeth. He flashed an awkward five fingers up as a wave.

Conrad eyed him.

Yozak laughed nervously and asked, "So, what are you doing here at this hour of the morning?" He said it in a low voice and hoped that she'd catch on and do the same. No luck.

"Oh, my cousin runs a dairy not far from here," the young woman said, brushing back her dark and bleach blond colored strands, "but one of his carts broke down. So, I'm going to help him make some deliveries and, then, go back to my parents' inn."

"An inn?" Conrad said, eyeing the man next to him.

"That's…nice of you," Yozak returned lamely.

Connie's eyes turned to Conrad. He nodded at her politely and said, "So, I see you've made friends while you're here." That smile was back—that damned annoying smile. This time, though, it made Yozak almost jump out of his skin. Briefly, he forgot how to breathe.

"All in the line of duty." He tried to make it sound like a joke with a fake laugh and an even faker salute.

Connie smirked at that. _He's so shy!_ "Well, if what you did was in the line of duty, sign me up for the next war." She winked at Yozak and drove away.

_Yup, I'm dead now…_

Blue eyes met with brown ones. He used all of his undercover techniques to convey a message of innocence. But he knew that it was far, far too late for that. He laughed nervously and said, pointing at the retreating figure of Connie, "I think we can be _good_…_friends_…in the future."

"Friends…" Conrad said evenly.

"Kissing cousins?" Yozak grinned.

He got an arched eyebrow for that one.

"Companions?"

Blue eyes darted at the ground briefly.

"Ummm…acquaintances?"

They walked on.

"Someone I barely know…?"

* * *

Wolfram threw his head back in a voiceless scream. He was sweating, breathing hard now, heart beating wildly. The pain wasn't what he'd expected at all. He clutched the sheets so tightly that his knuckles turned white and his hands shook.

It happened again. He turned his head to one side. _No more! I'm at my limit._

Wolfram felt tears in his eyes. They streamed down.

How he could feel perfectly fine one second and crippling agony the next was beyond him. It woke Wolfram out of a calm and peaceful sleep.

Pain.

Wolfram rolled onto his side, knees to his chest. If he didn't concentrate on breathing, he'd pass out. But, some part of him registered that he was already lying down. This was the perfect place to do it if it happened at all, he thought vaguely. _Breathe_. He scrunched his eyes tightly. _Again. Breathe_. He almost let out a moan that time. _No! I'm not that weak. _He turned his face into the pillow. _Breathe. Let it out. And again…!_

The last one was hard. A shaking, shuddering breath followed and emerald eyes opened.

In the darkness, the blond pushed his aching body up in bed. He was sitting, now, with the blankets and sheets pooled around his waist—not that he noticed it, really. He was too busy squinting at the room, trying to come to terms with where he was. Most certainly, it was not a pool of blood on the floor in Gwendal's office.

"How, the hell, did I end up here?" Wolfram mumbled.

The blond turned his head a little and noticed the glowing signs of daybreak through gaps in the curtains.

_I don't understand… How did I…?_

"Wolfram?" mumbled the lightly snoozing body next to him. A warm arm snaked its way across the blond's lap. The hand went up the chest and reached for a shoulder, caressing it with a soothing touch.

The blond's eyes shot open at that.

"Lie down," the voice said. And because it sounded like a command, he did it.

Wolfram's head was on the pillow with unblinking green eyes that were wide—too wide.

_What did I __do__ last night?_ He took a worried, shallow breath. _That is Yuuri, right? Please, let it be Yuuri…_ _Please!_ Slowly, he turned his head to his bedfellow. _Yes! Oh, what a relief._ He sighed. _But, what exactly did I do __with__ Yuuri…last night?_ He chewed his lower lip. _I have no memory of that at all. Hell!_

Wolfram looked down at himself. The pink nightie had slipped off of his shoulders. It was hanging low on his chest_. T-That doesn't mean anything,_ he told himself. _Happens all the time._

"Let me hold you," Yuuri murmured, putting an arm around Wolfram's waist and pulling their bodies closer together before Wolfram had the chance to adjust the sleeves on his nightie. The gown slipped further down.

Emerald eyes shot open again.

"Wha?" he said, not being able to stop himself.

_This is not the Yuuri that I know._

Wide awake now, Wolfram sniffed the air a little—wondering if he'd find that musty smell that came with the passion of lovemaking. He'd smelled it a few times, due to his past experiences. He remembered how Tawny, in particular, loved to joke afterwards that it was _their scent_. But, to Wolfram, it wasn't exactly perfume. It kind of smelled like squid.

"Wolfram?" Yuuri said sleepily.

"Yes?" He was almost afraid to answer. Maybe, this was all a vivid dream and his body was really in the infirmary.

"Ar' you okay?" He snuggled closer. "Does it still hurt?"

Wolfram buried his face into the pillow, holding back the urge to beat his fist into it. _We did it! We did it and I don't remember a thing. Ugh! Did Yuuri get drunk and stupid, or did I seduce him? No, wait… I got the 'sore' question. He seduced me! No way!_

It took several large, calming breaths before the blond answered, "I'm fine."

"Good," came the sleepy voice, "because I think you're going to grow some more."

"Grow?" Wolfram squeaked back incredulously, embarrassment creeping up and blood rushing to his face.

"Come on… You know." He yawned and rested his head against Wolfram's. "Get bigger."

The blond frowned back. "I think I'm perfectly well formed right now."

"Yeah," Yuuri said back with a small chuckle, "you're almost as big as me."

Green eyes narrowed at that. He turned his head slightly in Yuuri's direction and said, "I've seen you in the bath. Next to me, there's no comparison."

* * *


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

They left the road and weaved among the bushes and tall shrubs in the forest. Conrad tied his steed next to where Yozak's horse was grazing peacefully and continued down another trail in silence—enjoying the last vestiges of the orange haired man's guilt over his _time_ with Connie. The more Yozak tried to brush it off as nothing, the worse he felt—which was obvious. Inwardly, the brown haired man chuckled at that. Finally, after much squirming, Conrad decided to let him off the hook.

"I think that's enough, Yozak," he said with a slight smile on his face.

"Oh, I suppose you're right. We're close enough to the house as it is."

"No, I mean…about Connie. You don't have to prove anything to me. After all, you're a spy, the best there is. It wasn't fraternizing with the enemy. You actually got information that could help us. So, there was nothing disloyal about it."

"Disloyal?" he said back in an even tone that was really supposed to be a question. "I guess…" But something still felt _wrong_. And why was Conrad so understanding anyway? If he'd just never known, it would have been fine, but…

Yozak looked at the man's pleasant profile. _Nothing—not an ounce of…concern_? No, that really wasn't the word he was looking for. He sighed a little and decided to put his feelings on the shelf for the time being. He had a job to do.

"Over there is a better spot," the orange haired man said with a gesture to the left.

Once they got to the place and could survey the house, Yozak leaned into Conrad and said quietly, "To my knowledge, they're all still in there. It's Marelda, the assassins, some servants that appear to come in and out of their workshop, one servant who works in the blacksmith's shop, and a housekeeper. I haven't seen the brother that people keep mentioning. But, I'm assuming that he's around here somewhere."

"Good job, my friend." Conrad added a smile to his words while putting a gentle hand on Yozak's shoulder. "But you look really tired right now. And I think you need to sleep for awhile. I'll take this next watch." It was followed by a look that said "I outrank you. So, just go along with it."

"O-Okay, I wasn't planning on it, though," Yozak said reluctantly, trying to avoid Conrad's gaze for some reason that he couldn't fathom. Maybe it was the intense stare of brown eyes. "Fine…fine…I'll take a snooze against this tree. Wake me if you need me." And with that, he sat down and leaned his back against rough bark. He folded his arms and watched Conrad take a seat on an old tree stump next to him.

He stretched a little. He really was tired after all.

"You know, you're the only one I'd do this with," Yozak said casually, covering his mouth with a slight yawn.

"Do what?" Conrad said, eyes drifting to him.

"Sleep." There was a slight chuckle that came with that. "Real sleep, I mean… _Sleep_ with the wrong person and you could _wake up_ dead. And, I guess, that could really ruin your whole day."

"And you keep telling me that I make bad jokes."

Yozak smiled back briefly with a full set of white teeth. "Well, you know what I mean." He ruffled his orange hair with a drowsy look on his face. "But I can sleep with you…here."

"Then, I'm honored." His voice had a velvet tone to it now.

"You should be… Besides, you always get your way anyhow," Yozak mumbled to himself boyishly, a smirk coming to him as he drifted off.

Conrad frowned slightly at that. "Not always…not always..."

* * *

Günter sat in the library with a large, dusty tome open in front of him. He turned the delicate pages with a soft touch. The book wasn't that old by Mazoku standards. However, the quality of the paper was poor and the spine looked bad. Obviously, it had been broken and then repaired. There was damage to the left corner—as thought the book had been dropped "or flung into the nearest wall as he was known to do," the advisor thought out loud. His eyes were running over the Mazoku symbols quickly, almost hungrily. His index finger began to guide him when he found the correct year and a mention of Marelda Meiger in crisp, angry handwriting.

This book wasn't written in Günter's own hand, but he knew who it belonged to even though there was no mention of the original author. For, this was more than a dusty old book, it was a confessional.

Günter was right. And, in this case, he hated being right.

"But I need a description of her. I remember the name, vaguely, and I only caught a glimpse of her back then…before…" He sighed, suddenly putting an elbow on the table and propping his head up with the palm of his hand. Slender strands of his long hair fell against one of the pages. "Come to think of it," he said to himself, "we have no proof that this is the same person. It could be someone masquerading as Marelda Meiger, for all we know."

"DO NOT FOLLOW ME!" Wolfram bellowed as he stormed past the open doorway to the library.

The blue uniformed blur definitely caught Günter's attention. His eyes widened. Like a woman ashamed of ogling a PlayGirl centerfold in the bookstore, Günter awkwardly stashed the book he was reading on the floor, next to his chair. "Oh! I've lost my place," he said to himself with more than a touch of drama queen mixed in with it. Instantly, he felt sad that there was no one around to witness his little fit of the dramatic.

"Wolfram!" Yuuri whined as he passed the library. "I don't understand what you're so upset about. I don't get it." A shrug followed as the double black walked on.

"OF COURSE, YOU WOULDN'T! YOU'RE FINE WITH NOT GETTING IT!" came the thundering echo from the opposite end of the hallway.

"Heika!" Günter said in the doorway now with his hands clasped together in angelic fashion. "Are you ready for your lessons today?" He would ignore Little Lord Brat. And, if possible, he'd distract his precious "heika" from the tantrums and overly dramatic thunderings of the blond.

The double black stopped. Twelve feet away, Yuuri's head swiveled back in the direction of his royal tutor and advisor. He had an incredulous look on his face, mouth opened slightly in a little "o" that seemed so cute to Günter.

"I'm a little bit _busy_," he muttered in a tone that said he wasn't going to be talked out of this one.

"But…._Heika_!" Günter whimpered. Puppy dog eyes shined at him.

"_Find…something…to…do!_ And that's an order!" Yuuri said with a hand grasped firmly around Wolfram's wrist. Meanwhile, the blond was staring down at his wrist as though it wasn't a part of this body and he'd never seen it before. His mouth was hanging open, which wasn't a good sign to the double black at all.

"Sheesh! Wolfram, you're so much trouble," Yuuri muttered under his breath before tugging Wolfram away, looking left and then right, and, finally, wrenching open the nearest storage closet with his free hand.

"In here…now!" Yuuri took the lead.

Wolfram stared wide-eyed at the maids and-- "Oh, hell! Mother's here, too!"—everyone else who happened to be passing at the time only to see the blond being sprung forward, head first, into the small, dark closet against his will.

"So, Wolfram… _What is_ your problem?" the voice demanded. Everyone outside giggled. Lady Cecile's laughter rang out louder than the others, too.

"It's dark," the blond pouted.

As the wooden door slammed shut, everyone could hear, "You can light a fireball, but don't you dare set me on fire…or I'll never let you sleep with me again!"

* * *

The sunlight was streaming in through the shutters. She had a vague feeling that the shutters had become unlatched during the night. She'd need to speak to her servants about fixing them so that this didn't happen again.

A sunbeam hit her face and she wrinkled her nose. But it was when it dawned on her that the light was on her but that there was no warmth to it that Marelda Meiger sat up in bed and looked around her room. It faded into darkness; the colors simply melted down and became shadows. She smiled at it all. This was nothing new.

Marelda was back in the penumbra. And only a strong oracle wielder Mazoku, such as herself, could journey this far into it and still be pleased with herself.

Marelda's brown hair, which was very much the color of an autumn leaf, blew slightly in a breeze that had no origin. She closed her eyes, knowing that this world of dreams obeyed her, and…waited.

In the void, three perfectly square objects to the right, left, and ahead of her sparkled as they approached. They looked like mirrors. But, once they glided to her, they appeared to have the iridescence of a soap bubble. There were faint images moving inside each of the squares, too.

"The tiles are back," Marelda said with a smile. She could feel her nightgown billowing around her with the energy that the tiles brought to her. They continued to sparkle.

"What was," she said, pointing to her left.

"What is," Marelda continued, touching the tile in front of her briefly.

"What will be if this path continues," she said and touched the tile. It winked slightly when she did it. "Decisions…decisions…." The brunette smirked with her head tilted prettily to one side and a finger touching her cheek—as Cecile was also known to do when faced with choices. "I must be at a crossroads to have so many things to see."

Then something sparkled above the brunette's head. She looked up to see another tile. Reluctantly, this time, Marelda took it in her right hand. "No! This can't be," she said, in a disappointed tone that was more of a moan. The tile still sparkled, but the color was copper and the images barely visible. Once again, Marelda could see herself at a party—just as she had done in her previous dream—introducing herself to the Demon King and her initial attempts to console him over the untimely death of his fiancé. But, then, the scene froze and refused to move.

"No!" she said angrily. "He's mine! The Demon King should be mine! We're perfect for each other—both powerful, both commanding. We could rule together! I'll give him everything he'll ever want. I just need the chance to show him that we belong together." She broke the tile and tossed each piece of it into the darkness. "I can't believe that I've come this close _again_ only to fail! How could things have changed?" Marelda wanted to pull her hair out now. "It was all going so perfectly." She shook her head and eyed the remaining tiles with a furious glare.

She was so angry that she didn't realize that her dreamself had grown long, black fingernails—cracked and filthy.

"Maybe I'll learn it from these, then," she said while eyeing the tiles left behind.

The tile to the left, the past, showed Yuuri and Wolfram sitting on some steps at Blood Pledge Castle in the dark. Marelda held the tile up to her face. It filled her vision.

_Wolfram and Yuuri's bodies leaned into each other a little, lips almost touching. "You're taking too long," purred Wolfram. A strong hand found the nape of the double black's neck and slid softly into his hair—black hair spilling through his fingers. The gentle touch guided Yuuri forward and he surrendered._

"Why didn't you just die like you were supposed to?" Marelda fumed. "Why wasn't the arrow enough? And, even afterwards, I got word that you were still sick and passing out." She took the tile in her sharp claws and flung it away as well with the thought, _I should have killed you long ago when I was at Blood Pledge Castle._

"But," she said, trying to calm herself down or she'd lose her concentration and the last two tiles before her, "there is the _present_ and the _future_."

The tile before her glistened brightly and then turned black.

"Oh, no," she breathed. "Another vision that won't come to pass…?" She blinked at the greyish-black tile again. "But, usually, they turn a sort of 'tan' color when that happens…" She scratched her head a little in confusion. "And it's supposed to be the 'now' so how can this be?"

The greyish-black tile didn't show any moving images, only faint voices could be heard:

"_Oi, Wolfram? Are you going to answer my question or not?" Yuuri said crossly. There was silence. "And you can light a fireball and look at me when I'm talking to you."_

"_Make me."_

"_What?!" Yuuri fumed in silence for a second followed by, "You're being unreasonable, Wolfram."_

"_And you've suddenly changed." _

More bickering followed. So the eavesdropping didn't really make any sense to her. She held the tile with all of the dignity that she gave to useless garbage and let it fall away from her.

"Now, for the future." Marelda took the tile to the left and held it up to her face. The images made her smile. The tile was so good, she watched it all over again. If she couldn't have the first future, then she'd have this one for sure. It was a smaller victory, but it would work out just the same—a victory that she could keep while she searched for the culprit who altered her possible future as the Demon Queen married to Yuuri Heika. "I'll work hard to see that this future comes true. I know I can manage it." The brunette held the tile to her heart, caressing it against her nightgown and feeling the cool contact that held within it a soft vibration. Then, she looked down on it.

The tile showed the images one last time. In the Meiger family's blacksmith's shop, there was a hook in the ceiling. A rope was laced through it. One end was tied against the north wall. The other end was holding Wolfram's arms securely over his head. The blond's legs were bound together. He was on his knees—wearing only his white, long sleeved shirt and blue breeches. Around Wolfram's neck was a necklace made of hundreds of small hoseki stones. There was a leather strand tied around Wolfram's wrists with small hoseki stones dangling from it like a charm bracelet.

Wolfram's emerald eyes shot open at the feeling of his white shirt being ripped apart in the back. He tried to prepare himself for what was to come. But, there really was no way he could do it.

The person circled around him and stared.

"You!" Wolfram breathed.

"Remember me?" she said sweetly.

"Who could forget?" Wolfram growled back, making only a weak lunge in her direction thanks to the stones sapping his strength. "My father's _old concubine_. I wondered what happened to you, Marelda." He narrowed his green eyes. "Of course, I was pretty sure that my mother kicked you out with the rest of the trash."

"You know, you look a lot like your mother, _Wolfie_."

He kept his face set, determined not to cringe at the nickname.

"So, this is going to be pretty easy. I'll do you and…think about her."

"My mother kicking your ass out of the castle is what I'll think about," Wolfram quipped.

Marelda walked up to Wolfram with the dark brown whip in her hand. She lifted his chin with the end of it. "You know, I only use this when I help drive the cattle," she said with a smile. "Of course, I'd never use this on one of my animals. It's just to scare them in the direction I want. If I actually used this…," she said with a thunderous crack against Wolfram's waist. He bit back a scream and stared defiantly with shiny eyes that begged to cry. "As I said, if I actually used this on one of my cattle, it would ruin the hide." She circled around again-- pulling the back of Wolfram's white shirt open wider to reveal smooth, porcelain skin. "This is what you get," Marelda said taunting him, "for not being reasonable and dying in the first place when the arrow hit you."

_Whack._

"You were always such a brat."

Wolfram flinched and tried to breathe through the pain. The initial sting was nothing to the agony that quickly followed.

_Whack_.

"Hey, do you want to know what your father was like? I knew him a lot better than you do," she laughed, "and he never loved your mother."

Wolfram lowered his head a little, breathing hard at the floor. He was gulping air and trying to block out her words.

_Whack_.

"I hated you back then, too."

Wolfram was aching, starting to cry. She had hit the place where the arrow had penetrated his skin. His body crumbled but was now supported by the rope.

_Whack_.

"You're all alone. You've always been alone. No one's coming for you, 'Wolfram the Undesirable'." She whispered the words viciously in his ear followed by…

_Whack_.

His whole body jerked that time, blond head thrown back in a scream that echoed. His body was dangling by the wrists now.

_Whack_.

"I wonder how many people would love to do this to you…?"

Wolfram screamed at her in rage and his mind faded into darkness while the blood began to drip onto the floor.

* * *


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

There was a sudden, deep huff—much like the sound of a gas stove lighting up—and a yellow orb, the size of a baseball, rotated in Wolfram's palm very slowly.

"Don't ask for a fireball in a closet with cleaning supplies and a wooden door, wimp," Wolfram said back with a deep frown. "A lightball is much better." The blond's sharp emerald eyes and golden blond features were lit and moved with a soft shifting of light brighter than candlelight. Yuuri couldn't help but wonder at it.

Even angry, Wolfram was beautiful.

"I-I'm s-sorry," Yuuri stammered back. He lowered his eyes to the floor and tugged at his collar. He told himself that it was just because it was getting stuffy. "But you barely gave us time to get dressed before you started griping at me. And the next thing I knew, you were out the door."

"So…?" Wolfram shot him a suspicious look. _He's really acting differently. I don't understand it. My memories of him from before… and these now…just don't fit. _

"I thought we worked everything out last night…" Dark eyes seemed sad and confused. Wolfram melted a little at that, but he refused to give in.

"Last night…?" the blond said, fishing for information. _Did we…or didn't we…do anything? _He held his breath. Now, some part of him didn't want the answer. Some part begged for everything to stop—just forget it all. Walk away. While his relationship with Yuuri was slow and boring sometimes, he did have him. He was able to fight by Yuuri's side and protect him. If something changed between them, it may not be a good change after all.

"Of course," Yuuri said, lifting his head to see the green eyes that he was so drawn to. "Don't you remember?"

Wolfram turned his gaze to the lightball in his hand. "As a matter of fact, I…don't…"

"What?" Yuuri said, blinking at him. The closet really was getting stuffy now, but he tried to ignore it. "Are you telling me that…_you're back_?"

A blond eyebrow quirked at that. "Did I ever leave?"

Relief spread across the double black's features. "You're back? _Really_?" A bright, toothy grin followed. It was the same feeling that he got when the Hanshin Tigers got a home run. He shot a fist up into the air and yelled "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

He stopped abruptly when he heard vicious snickering outside. An ivory hand suddenly clamped over his mouth. Wolfram glared at him with a face that was tinted a dark shade of pink. "Can you shut up, wimp?" he hissed. The blond could barely breathe thanks to the stuffy closet and the embarrassment. Though, he told himself that it was all the closet's fault and Yuuri's—well, mostly, Yuuri's.

Wolfram lowered his hand slowly. "Explain."

"You have… no idea…. how much… I've missed-"

"What are you talking about?" Wolfram interrupted. Why couldn't Yuuri just spit it all out at once?

"Well, I'm trying to tell you," Yuuri complained in a pouty tone, hands resting on his hips defensively.

"Look, Yuuri… The last thing I remember…before waking up with you," and he shook his head awkwardly at that because it was really unexpected, "was bleeding on the floor… _in your arms_." Wolfram forced the last three words out of his mouth. His felt a sharp stab inside, too. It was hard to admit that last part. "So you have to understand why I was so upset to wake up and find that you'd _changed_ suddenly."

"I'm not the only one who has changed," Yuuri said with relief still in his voice and a smile tugging on his lips, "and I think we need to pay a visit to Gisela to make sure you're back."

Wolfram shuffled his feet a little nervously at that.

"Worried?" Yuuri asked, examining Wolfram in the flickering light.

"Curious, I suppose…"

"Oh, you want to know what you've missed? We'll tell you…but it will take awhile. Talk about a long story!" His voice had a hint of mischief now. There was so much to tell. The double black desperately wanted to hug Wolfram at that point and hang onto him in relief. But he held back—not sure if Wolfram would accept it.

"What…I …missed? No, that can wait." Wolfram shifted awkwardly at that and said, "No… I want to ask you something else." _I need to know this. It's the most important thing._

"Okay," Yuuri said, his face brightening. He had Wolfram back and that was all that really mattered.

"When I was bleeding on the floor…with you," Wolfram said, "what did you feel_?" I need to know what you felt for me. It would make sense with this morning's sudden affection if…deep down…you really…wanted…me. Because I lo-_

Yuuri spoke up again and interrupted the blond's thoughts. "I was scared," he admitted honestly. Now, it was Yuuri's turn to shuffle his feet. He put his hands behind his back in a kind of timid schoolboy fashion. And that, too, did not go unnoticed by Wolfram. "I didn't know what to do. There was so much blood…and…" He shook his head a little and looked sincerely into green eyes. "You had an arrowhead inside of you, Wolfram. Of course, I'd feel sorry for you."

_Pity._

Wolfram nodded mechanically. And his mind went back to his last, clear recollection of Yuuri.

"_I don't want your pity," he breathed, wishing he'd had the strength to look behind him to glare._

"_But…Wolfram! You were slashed…."_

"_Slashed?" he said back, annoyed. "Look again, wimp. It's a hole, not a slash mark."_

"_Then what?" Black eyes narrowed._

"_It's still in me," the blond said with a shaky breath, "I've been shot with an arrow."_

Wolfram hated the memory. It burned in him somewhere.

_Pity._

When he had said, _"I don't want your pity,"_ Yuuri never denied that's what it was.

_I'm going to cry. I just know it._

The blond kept his face blank. Tears, now, would be weak and would change nothing. He could not let his heart rule him.

_This is pity. And "Yuuri the Peacemaker" would feel that way for anyone. What an idiot I am. I allowed myself to hope. Why do I always do this to myself? Why am I holding onto someone who doesn't belong to me? If I've learned so much in my life, why can't I learn this…? The truth. You can't make someone love you._

Wolfram glanced over into dark eyes—the shine of tears, clearly evident.

"Wolfram?" Yuuri said, looking concerned. Maybe he wasn't feeling one hundred percent after all. Putting on a brave face was typical of his fiancé.

"It's stuffy in here," Wolfram complained, tugging at his blue collar with his free hand.

"Sure," the double black said with relief, taking Wolfram's pale, limp hand in his, "let's go find Gisela and tell everyone that you're back."

_Huh?_ "Right." _Whatever…_

"Now, everything can go back to normal."

Wolfram closed his eyes in pain. He could feel his heart crack and splinter. He looked down at their hands, clasped together. "Fine." _It will all be fine. I'll make it fine. For you, Yuuri… I'll find a way to let you go. _

_Let you go… I have to._

_Because there's no greater agony than false hope. _

And with that, like a candle, Wolfram blew out the light in the palm of his hand.

The storage closet door opened. Fresh air and blinding light hit them as they left for the healer's office. Both guys squinted. Yes, they'd been in the closet for far too long. Luckily, Yuuri didn't notice the guards in the hallway smirking at them as they walked. The double black was still blinking hard to readjust to the light.

A thought struck him. Yuuri suddenly stopped in his tracks and looked over his shoulder at Wolfram. They were still holding hands, but Wolfram was meekly following along, lost in thought.

"You're kind of quiet. Are you really okay?"

"Yes." And when Yuuri didn't seem to believe him, the blond added. "Everything will go back to the way it was...just like you said."

"Yeah!" Yuuri grinned and walked along with a happy spring in his step. He'd fill the blond in on everything that he missed. And it was reasonable because a lot had happened. Then, they could pick up from there.

Wolfram rubbed his watery left eye with his sleeve.

"For Yuuri," he sighed as he walked behind.

"Hm?"

"Nothing."

As long as Yuuri was happy, there was nothing else he could want. And his greatest gift would be his absence.

* * *

"Yozak," Conrad whispered. "Wake up!"

Almost instantly, the orange haired man was awake. It always impressed Conrad that he could do that.

"What's going on?" the man asked in low tones, pushing the branches of a shrub away a little so that he could see the front of the house.

"The front door is open and I see people inside."

Not long afterwards, the group of five walked out followed by Marelda who was holding a messenger pigeon. The last, the fat nosed man, loosened the strings to his shirt, giving room to breathe. He looked like he had a hangover. His brother, the elder one, said to Marelda, "Thank you for the antidote."

Marelda ignored his comment and then released the messenger bird.

From the bushes, Conrad and Yozak watched it fly away. They glanced at each other—desperately wanting to know who it was going to. They looked back to see Marelda shoving a brown glass bottle into the elder's hand. "Here's more in case the idiot gets himself injured again." Her face was set and determined. He nodded even though he hated to do it. For the sake of his little brother, he'd go through the indignities of being humble to the bitch.

"Remember, now," she said, "your mission has changed."

"I know the new mission," the elder said somewhat loudly. The others in the group guffawed at it.

"Good. Then, I won't have to repeat myself," Marelda added tartly and pulled her long, brown hair away from her face into a ponytail and tied it back with a pink satin string.

"Well, yeah," the fat nosed one said, feeling nauseous and wanting to end this conversation before he blew chunks again.

"But our skill is 'getting people out of the way'—if you know what I mean," the boss said, not wanting to be left out of the conversation. He was the one in charge of this group, and he'd have his voice heard now.

"So, you're saying you can't do this for the same price?" She eyed them.

"No, but," the boss continued, rubbing a hand across his grey stubbled face, "but you could certainly hire others at a cheaper price to do the deed."

"Then," she said with a dark, quirky grin, "you won't mind handing over the money that I gave you, huh?" She had her hand out.

"No! No!" the elder one said diplomatically and his brother nodded with the vague thought that throwing up at this point would be a good distraction for everyone.

"We'll just be on our way," the boss said gruffly. "And we'll see you back here at the appointed time and place."

"Remember the place is the blacksmith's shop." She pointed in the direction of the building.

"Right," the boss said.

The five of them went to the stables to get the horses.

Yozak sat back and stared at Conrad seriously. "Could you hear what they were saying?"

"Most of it. Those men are loud. But I didn't understand it all, either."

The orange haired man nodded. This was one of the usual pitfalls of spy work. Most of the time, you had to hang around, question people without them knowing that it was questioning, and eavesdrop on conversations to get information. Rarely, very rarely, would people simply start a long monologue about what their plans really were. And, in all cases, you had to question the veracity of it all.

Light blue eyes watched the five horses clomp down the road. Boss was busy complaining to the men about having to sleep in one of the outer buildings while the evil bitch tended to Ben. He gave an impatient kick to Ben, the fat nosed one. And fat nose's horse, not pleased with the prospect of more kicks heading in his direction, picked up the pace, ears turned back, and clomped a bit faster down the road. Boss slung the quiver of arrows on his back with the fletchings glistening slightly in the sun.

"They've got the arrows," Yozak whispered to himself.

"How many?"

"It looks like…six…"

Yozak watched the men for as long as he could. Yes, they were loud, rough, and stupid humans. But, when time came for them to work, they most certainly earned their pay or Marelda would never have hired them in the first place.

He turned around. Blue eyes looked into brown ones again.

"What do you think we should do now?" he asked Conrad. "Someone needs to watch the house, and someone needs to follow those knuckle draggers."

The brown haired man's face was smooth and calm, but there was a frown between his eyes. "Someone also needs to call for backup. One person can't handle all of those at once—if they are as good as we think they are."

Yozak glanced at Conrad. "I think we should just go after that group that just left. If we capture them and keep them out of the way, then we will have less to worry about. We might get some good information, too."

"And then…?" Conrad said back. "Either Marelda will hire a whole new group of men that we don't know about, or she'll go after the next target on her own."

"If we arrest her, then?" the orange haired man said hopefully.

"You forget that she just sent a messenger pigeon off. And I doubt it was just a 'thank you' note," he said looking into the sky.

Yozak nodded. That part was obvious. Someone else knew the plan and was working with Marelda.

"You're right, as usual," Yozak said conversationally.

"Then, I think we need to split up."

"Gee," he said and ruffled his orange hair uncomfortably, "do you have to say 'split up' like that?" There was a slight wince.

"Can't live without me?" Conrad joked. His head cocked to one side.

Yozak shrugged and turned toward the house, "Don't ask me to try."

* * *

It was evening and Wolfram managed to excuse himself from dinner with the group—as usual. Yuuri watched him go with some concern. Wolfram seemed unnaturally quiet and subdued. "Probably still feeling the effects," Yuuri muttered to himself.

As much as the king wanted to follow his fiancé, he couldn't. Gwendal had decided to give a quick and informal, for him anyway, update on Conrad and Yozak's observations.

The administrator unfolded the one page report that the messenger bird had delivered shortly before dinner.

"I see," Yuuri said, scanning it and then handing it back.

Gwendal fanned himself with the paper a little, resisting the urge to throw it in the fireplace and be done with it. "Knowing how rash Wolfram can be, and how easily rumors can spread throughout the castle, it would probably be best to watch the situation closely and keep this information to ourselves."

Yuuri nodded in agreement. "We'll do that…until Wolfram is back one hundred percent. I want him well enough to deal with everything that has happened."

Gwendal glanced at the report. He'd read it enough times to have it memorized. He said, "It's for the best." Then, he looked over at Yuuri again. "Just curious…"

"Hm?"

"Does Wolfram remember…the two of you…as…" he coughed uncomfortably into his fist, "…a couple? A real one?"

Yuuri looked down at his shoes and said quietly, "I don't think that he does. Every time he grows, he forgets me."

"This very situation was what I was trying to avoid."

Dark eyes looked up sincerely. "I know, but…"

"But what?" Gwendal gave him a firm stare with arms folded defensively.

The room was filled with an uncomfortable silence.

_That's right. Some part of me keeps forgetting he's Wolfram's big brother. And that's a bond that goes deep. And Wolfram, no matter what age he is, will always be the "cute and defenseless blond baby" to Gwendal._

"Wolfram has feelings for me. I think everyone knows that, right?" The double black said it simply. It was the most honest truth that he could tell and Gwendal knew it.

But Gwendal could also be stubborn. "As I've said before, I don't want him hurt."

Yuuri sighed a little. "I don't think anyone can promise that. All I can say is that people are what they are. They feel what they feel."

* * *

Outside, the darkness wrapped around Wolfram. He enjoyed it and took a stroll in the rose garden. He had considered paying his apple tree a visit. It was a place of refuge for certain. But, for some reason, the soft scent of the roses kept him walking along the path he was on. Before he knew it, Wolfram found himself sitting on a stone bench near a white rosebush and enjoying the way the flowers seemed to glow with the moon shining down and casting a wondrous, grey light.

"Lord von Bielefeld,"said a voice approaching_, _"I'm surprised to see you here."

Murata Ken smirked in Wolfram's direction and, without being asked, he took a seat on the same stone bench. _Actually, there's no "surprise" about it,_ he thought, _I knew you'd be here all along._

He got a nod of approval from Wolfram.

"So," Murata said while folding his hands in his lap, "care to tell?"

"What?" Wolfram asked innocently. The question didn't make sense. Then again, very few things did at the moment. And he was quickly getting used to it.

The Great Sage laughed at him a bit. "Care to tell why you're not already in Yuuri's bed right now?"

"I didn't feel like it," Wolfram replied, hoping that the sage would back off at that implication of illness. The blond had planned on sleeping in his old room tonight anyway. He'd taken a nap there during the day—which surprised Yuuri when he'd come looking for him with Greta to have a cookie break.

The blond frowned and chewed his lower lip a little. "Can I ask you something…personal?" Wolfram said, turning his head slightly in Murata's direction. He leaned forward a little to get a better view of the face beyond the glasses.

In the darkness, for a brief moment, Wolfram was the very image of Shinou. His face, eyes, posture—all him. Murata's heart stood still and, at the same time, it ached a little for the past—as painful as his past was with Shinou_. Why am I thinking of him now? _Murata wanted to shake the thought away. Then, another thought came to him just as quickly. Had Shinou possessed Wolfram again? Murata decided to wait a little longer to find out. Sometimes, even the very wise could not see all sides of a situation.

"Personal?" He laughed uncomfortably and said, "I don't care how many times I've been reincarnated… Right now, I'm still a teenager. You probably have more experience in this life than me." He shrugged with a fake childish air.

Wolfram could tell it was all phony and almost scoffed at it. Seeing the blond's reaction, Murata decided to drop the act. _Why am I avoiding this?_ In a more serious tone, Murata continued, "And Yuuri is my good friend. So, there's only so much that I'm allowed to tell."

"It isn't that. I know that you're just friends with Yuuri."

Something a little cold ran through Murata now. It didn't feel good, and he always listened to his instincts.

Dark eyes narrowed. "He isn't cheating on you, if that's what you want to know." He readjusted his glasses with a fingertip by pushing it up the bridge of his nose.

Wolfram gave a small chuckle. "I know that, too" he said. "In a way, I've always known it." Still sitting on the bench, he stretched his legs out and enjoyed the light of the moon shining down on his pale face. "I just liked to say 'cheater' to him to remind him that I wanted to be included in his life." He twisted a strand of blond hair a few times. "I chased away everyone who could have possibly loved him. And I did it because I wanted him to notice me."

"That's quite a confession," Murata said with the smile running away from his face. _Oh, this is bad. I'm talking to Wolfrm, not Shinou._ His eyes briefly darted around. _I wish Yuuri were here._

There was a long silence and then…

"When you love someone, how do you let go?"

There it was again, Shinou's face. The same sincere look—which was rare and precious to the original sage. The same look that he got the moment he tore Shinou's soul from his body. The face that he knew he couldn't forget through all the millennia even as he cradled the soulless body in his long, thin arms all that time ago.

He could hear his other "self" crying.

Murata closed his eyes tightly for a second and turned his head away.

"S-sorry…?" Murata stammered while forcing the image from his mind. He would not fall for Shinou all over again. He was _Murata_, not the original _Great Sage_.

"You heard me," Wolfram replied, not fooled a bit. He wasn't going to ask that question a second time.

"Oh, I see…" Murata said.

"I'm finally taking the advice that you and Gwendal gave me, repeatedly, just before I was struck with the arrow." The blond pulled back a strand of hair that was tickling his face. It was starting to get breezy. "It's time to stop this. Yuuri needs to be happy…even if…it isn't with me."

Murata took a deep breath and let it out. Yes, this was the advice that he was giving Wolfram every time he had the opportunity. And Murata had suggested Gwendal draw up official annulment papers just in case the king decided it call it quits first.

"Is this what your heart tells you," Murata asked, "or your pride?"

Wolfram frowned and looked at the dark haired person sitting next to him. "You were the one who initially brought this up."

"And you were the one who always insisted that Yuuri would accept your feelings in time."

Wolfram watched the moon a little more. _Yuuri's feelings of pity and guilt? No. I won't accept those._

"So, tell me…"

"Should I bother?"

"Oh Great Sage," Wolfram began insincerely, maybe taunting him a bit would get the answer he was seeking "please give me your advice." Murata shot him a sour look. Wolfram shrugged and continued in a politer tone, "Seriously…How do I do this? How is it possible to forget someone that I dearly cared for…lived for…?"

Murata didn't want to answer. Yes, part of this situation was his fault. Bad advice that was given somewhat hastily. Though, he really thought, at the time, that he was correct in his assumptions. But, as time wore on, his dreams had told him otherwise. In them, Shinou had gone so far as to scold him for what he had done and what he was going to do.

So, when it came to Wolfram and Yuuri, Murata had been wrong—he had been _very wrong_.

"To forget someone…you love…" Murata parroted in the hopes to buy himself more time.

"Better yet," Wolfram said, "how did you do it?"

Murata's face fell at that. "What do you mean?" he said weakly.

Wolfram crossed his arms. Immediately following it was a haughty look. "I've read your history as the original Great Sage. And I've seen you and that spirit form of Shinou at the temple together. The two of you are not as you once were." Wolfram eyed him to emphasize his point. "I know, somehow," he put a hand to his blond head, "that I was possessed by him again recently. And I seem to have pieces of memories that don't belong to me."

"What _kind_ of memories?" Murata said dryly. He felt sick now—really sick.

Wolfram blushed a little and said, "_Personal memories_. Now, could we talk about my question?" There was a glimmer in the emerald eyes that spoke of embarrassment—profound embarrassment on the part of the sage if he were to be pushed further into revealing something.

So, Murata did the only thing he could under the circumstances; he changed the topic.

"Time. Distance. Distraction."

The blond nodded at this. It sounded logical.

"I would also suggest, knowing how strongly you feel for Yuuri, that you let go of him a little bit each day. Distance yourself an inch at a time—so that he won't really notice…"

"And feel guilty," Wolfram added.

"Yes," Murata replied, but it was more of an impatient sigh which Wolfram chose to ignore.

"Thank you," the blond said stiffly and stood up. "Now, I know I'm doing the right thing."

Not looking at him, Murata ran his fingers through his hair. "I never said that."

Wolfram was already walking back to the castle. He turned and glanced at the sage one last time, "You didn't have to."

The crickets chirped and played tag in the grass.

Murata found himself sitting alone on the stone bench. It felt cold to sit there now. He had made a mistake that he shared with Gwendal. They both wanted Wolfram to be happy and for Yuuri to find someone to love. Ending the engagement seemed the quickest way. But, now, Murata's own dreams were haunting him. He'd done a terrible thing with his advising.

_Were my motives honest ones? Damn you, Shinou! After so many reincarnations, is there any part of me that's really pure anymore? Did I truly do this for Wolfram's sake, or because I'm still mad at Shinou for the images in my head that I still can't forget…no matter how I try. _

Murata Ken folded his arms tightly against his chest to shield himself. But, his thoughts raced back to him anyway.

_Then again, Wolfram's question was a good one…how did I let Shinou go? _

_The truth is, I haven't._

* * *

It was the start of a new day. A white pigeon was released behind the stables of Blood Pledge Castle with a response to Marelda's message. It wouldn't take all that long for the little fellow to wing his way home, back to the Meiger Farm and a nice millet spray to peck.

_I thought I would let you know that __Lord Wolfram von Bielefeld is still very much alive and well in the castle. I saw him holding hands with Yuuri Heika as they walked down the hall—out of a closet, no less. And, last night, I know for a fact that they went back to sharing the same bedroom—again. The king actually fetched his fiancé from his bedroom and brought him "back where he belongs" to the king's private chambers. Their daughter, Greta, slept with them, too._

_I thought about you and laughed, you know. I could just imagine the look on your face if you had seen it.__ As I told you before, you should have just used your 'oracle gifts' to manipulate the king into marrying you. I could have finished off anyone at the castle who remembered you from before. But, no! You had to make it look like outlaws attacked the blond brat._

_So, w__hat are you planning to do? You'd better consult those spirits or ghosts of yours to tell us beforehand what is to come to pass because both the monarch and his "Little Lord Brat" are well guarded now. You know what I want out of this situation. So, you'd better do something and soon._

_Write me back once you've decided. And I'll help you._

* * *

The room was simple, neat, and clean. Sandy colored curtains blocked out the rising sun. There was a wooden desk with papers stacked, an inkwell, and a quill. The matching chair was still positioned at an odd angle, as though the former occupant pushed it back only to walk three paces and collapse into bed. Which is exactly what happened. But after a few minutes of having an uncomfortable draft crawl up his pajama top, he decided to pull the covers back and get in.

Murata Ken was lying in bed. He could feel his body resting there in the sweet, light dozing state of sleep. His glasses were on the side table along with the folded clothes that he planned to wear when he got up.

He used his imagination and his bed grew in both size and comfort. Some part of his pervy, sixteen year old nature was thinking of dreaming up a few temple maidens to share his 'dream bed' with. There was a particularly cute one that he fancied that had light blue hair. He wondered, briefly, if she was a natural blue. Of course, there was one sure way to tell…

The sage shifted his body slightly and grabbed a fistful of the blankets, pulling and trying to get them over his left shoulder to warm it. For some strange reason, the room suddenly felt icy.

A large, scarred hand reached over and grabbed Murata by the wrist and yanked him up—literally—out of bed.

"Wha-?" Murata said, still half asleep.

An angry, chiseled face glared at him. Blond hair flickered with soft highlights. "What _were_ you thinking?" Shinou said between gritted teeth.

"Shinou?" he said sleepily. He squinted a little and wanted to reach for his glasses. But they weren't there. It took a moment to register. Both Shinou and Murata were freefalling in the inky blackness that was the penumbra.

"I told you to stay out of this. I told you to avoid Wolfram!"

Murata, now fully awake, shook his head a little at that order. "I chose not to." Then, he blinked. Murata looked down at his hands and touched his strands of hair. They were different. His body wasn't that of Murata Ken—the double black, a teenager. His hands were longer and more slender. Long, silky strands of brown hair whipped around him. His body had transformed into the older, original sage and he spoke with his calm voice from lifetimes ago.

Shinou's eyes narrowed at his sage dangerously. He grabbed the sage by the wrist again and shook him. "You called me a 'meddler,' but you're much worse than I am."

The face framed in brown hair smirked at Shinou and put up a wall between them in doing so. "Oh, so? And what, pray tell, will you do to me now?" He looked down at his wrist again in the hopes that the other would catch the hint and let go.

Shinou released the sage and produced a small, white porcelain bowl of water. Blue eyes still blazing with fire, he offered it up with both hands. Inside the water-mirror, the sage could see faint, watercolor images moving and could hear their words. His face stiffened but his eyes revealed very little about what he actually felt.

"_Take one step closer and he's dead."_

"_Just hand him back, that's all I want," Yuuri's voice pleaded._

_There was a sudden cry of pain._

"_No!"_

The next thing Murata Ken knew, he was shoved forcefully, face down, back onto something soft. He looked up very cautiously only to realize that he was alone again in his bed. Squinting hard, he reached over for his glasses and sat them on his face.

"You really are a problem child, aren't you, Shinou?"

* * *


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

"So, it's true," Gwendal said, sitting behind his desk with his hands gripping the armrests until his knuckles turned white, "Marelda Meiger was Wolfram's father's concubine."

"It appears so." Günter said apologetically and placed the open book on Gwendal's desk. "I can show you the places where she's mentioned." He gestured to various paragraphs hand written in different shades of blue and black ink in a cruel, tiny scrawl.

At that Gwendal shook his head "no" because he didn't want to see it for himself. If he did, his temper would go through the roof. And, at this moment, he needed to think clearly.

"In this journal, Wolfram's father was fairly…ummm… How should one accurately describe it? …Ummm…"explicit"…in his descriptions," Günter continued. "He listed everything about her from her hair color to her oracle wielder skills—which he took full advantage of—to the birthmark on her right buttock." Günter felt a little sick when he mentioned her derriere. He took a cleansing breath.

Gwendal raised an eyebrow at that. "Exactly _how_ did he take advantage of Marelda's oracle wielder skills?"

The advisor picked up the book off of the table and turned pages—opening it to a place where he kept a purple bookmark. He had been certain that Gwendal was going to ask that question. "It says here that the…_ahem_…"woman" saw in a dream that he was going to meet his--and I quote--'sweet Cecile-poo' at a gathering of nobles for the Lady Catherine von Voltaire wedding to Lord John Applegate.

For a second, Gwendal's memory flashed back to his mother dragging him off in an outfit of silk, short breeches and a frilly long sleeved top to that wedding because Catherine was a distant relative of his. Then again, even in her wedding gown, Catherine was, in Gwendal's opinion because he loved cute things even in childhood—an absolute cow. Bovine, definitely bovine. Yozak, on his worst day, would have made a much prettier bride.

"So, that's how Wolfram's father met his mother."

Günter sniped, "It also means that Marelda had been with the elder von Bielefeld and acted as his concubine long before his wedding to Lady 'sweet Cecile-poo.'

Gwendal shot Günter a sharp look for referring to his mother in such a way.

"Oh, yes… Terribly rude. My apologies."

"Moving on," Gwendal said and looked up into Günter's face again, "is there anything else in there that can help us?"

A puff of dust flew up. He rubbed the edge of his nose and then went back to thumbing through the pages. "It's really less of a journal and more of a…confessional," the advisor said with more than a little distain. "Ummm….Let's see…. He's romancing more than two women within the castle walls. Of course, the Demon Queen outranks them all, but he just can't keep his hands to himself. And Marelda is getting more and more difficult control once he moves her into the castle." The Günter flipped more pages, not caring if he tore them now. "Oh, I missed this part." His eyes got wide. "She met Wolfram."

"What?!" Gwendal half stood up from his seat.

"The journal says, 'And I could not believe my eyes when I saw my lady love, Marelda, talking to my young son, Wolfram, near the stables. While it was impossible for me to hear their conversation, I realized that it was far too dangerous to allow this kind of interaction to continue. I will insist that they never meet again, or Marelda will face the consequences."

Günter squinted at the page. "Apparently, some of the castle maids, who were 'in the know' were appalled that the two should come across each other—even innocently—and the rumors started flying after that." Günter turned more pages. "The worst one being that Wolfram would eventually become engaged to Marelda when he came of age."

"Repulsive," Gwendal breathed with a shudder quickly following, "but, thankfully, that never happened."

"True," his companion said, "but it was outlandish enough for whispers to reach the Demon Queen. And when she questioned Wolfram about meeting the woman…"

"He didn't deny it," Gwendal finished for him.

"Correct."

"And then, Marelda got kicked out of the castle along with that lying, cheating rat…"

"Absolutely," Günter said and closed the book.

* * *

"Rock. Paper. Scissors!"

"You lose, Yozak," Conrad said with slight amusement. His rock smashed the spy's scissors. "So, that means that I will follow the group of ruffians before they get too far ahead of me."

Conrad was glad that he'd won. He was the better swordsman. If he got caught, he could probably fight his way out. Though, inside, he knew that his companion wanted the job of following the band of men. It would be an easy task and would give him a chance to survey the area. Plus, the orange haired man didn't like being in one place too long. And that was a fact.

"As you say…," Yozak returned unenthusiastically. "I'll watch the house for more signs of life. And, tonight, I'll see if I can sneak up on the open windows and listen in on a few things. I'll send another report to Gwendal, too." He rested his hands on his hips and sighed.

"Good." It was followed by a nod from Conrad, which was all the spy really needed—not that it made him feel any better.

Brown eyes suddenly narrowed as a warning. "Just stay safe."

"Agreed. Same to you."

_He'll be leaving now. Drat._

There was a heavy aura between them. And it wasn't as though they hadn't felt it before. They had. Yozak gave himself a mental slap. This was all getting too serious. And this spy mission was fairly simple right now. Then, Yozak's face broke into a free and easy smile. He opened his arms with a happy gesture. "Stay safe? Don't I always?" He cocked his head to one side and flashed pearly whites.

He got a mysterious smile in return. "You have a reckless streak in you, my friend." He began to walk back to his horse. The ride would probably be a long one—and a bit lonely.

"Oh, it's not all _that bad_," Yozak muttered in a tone of voice that said "Tag, you're it!" That got him a return glance and a playfully raised eyebrow in his direction. The other man stopped walking, too.

Now, it was Conrad's turn to be coy. "Do you want a serious answer to that?"

There was a brief chuckle coming from Yozak. "You're always serious."

"As I said before, just be careful."

"Yes, Mother," Yozak joked.

Conrad couldn't resist it. He chuckled back with his hands in his pockets now. "Don't be so eager to make me a part of your family. You've seen mine, you know. And, as they say, 'You don't marry a man. You marry his family'—or something to that effect." He scratched his head a little and tried to recall the exact quote from Earth.

"Ooh," Yozak quipped, "I'd have 'brother-in-law Gwendal'…" He frowned a little, imagining the look on the administrator's face at the news.

"Better yet," Conrad laughed, "try 'brother-in-law Wolfram.'" He watched the orange haired man's eyes bug out. It was fun.

"Well, I'm too young and beautiful to get married anyway," Yozak countered with a smirk. He flipped back his hair with one hand to emphasize his point.

At that, Conrad resumed his trek back to the horse. "Well, when you do get married, let me know. I'd love to come—if only to see if you'll be dressed as the bride or the groom."

He could hear Yozak laugh darkly. Even so, it felt good—reassuring. Conrad was certain that this whole conversation was just so that he wouldn't worry. Their partings were always hard, for some strange reason that they both couldn't define. So, over the years, they knew—they just knew—that leaving with a quip or a joke took the sting out of it.

Conrad continued to walk, resisting the urge to look back.

Then, a voice floating on the wind said, "I'll let you be the groom."

* * *

Wolfram was sitting in bed with the blankets pooled around his waist. He was still looking down at Yuuri, watching him sleep. How long he'd been doing that, he didn't really know nor did he care. Wolfram hugged the pillow in his arms a little tighter.

He would give himself this—this, last day—and would savor every moment of it.

_No tears,_ he promised himself. _Not that they'd change anything anyway._

After smudging his left eye with the heel of his hand, Wolfram leaned in and gave a soft kiss to Yuuri's cheek. The double black smirked, snored, and then gave the kissed spot a hearty scratch.

_You just couldn't leave my kiss on you. Huh, Yuuri?_ Wolfram thought and blinked away tears_. We were never meant to be anyway. I'm fire. You're water. We'd cancel each other out. _

The blond touched a lock of Yuuri's hair, feeling the silky black strands with the tips of his fingers. _It's good that this love is one sided. You won't suffer at all. And I'm glad._

The bed dipped a little when Wolfram got out of it. He went to the closet, picked out a blue uniform, and left to get ready for the day. He'd start with a bath.

The bedroom door opened and closed.

"Wolfram?" Yuuri said as more of a sigh.

Wearily, he sat up. The double black could see that he was alone in their room. He ruffled his hair and looked around, bleary eyed. "Wolfram?'

The Demon King shrugged to himself and flopped back down in the bed. "Must have gone to the bathroom or something." He stretched and then grabbed the blond's pillow. _Wolfram will have to fight to get this back_, he thought with a smile coming to him. Yuuri held it against his chest, lowered his head, and smelled something familiar. Sunflowers. The scent of sunflowers had returned to his bed. It felt safe and warm—just like him.

* * *

Out on the balcony, a Bad Omen bird sat on the railing and eyed Greta suspiciously. Determined now, the child quenched up her roundish face with her hands behind her back. The bird lifted his head. Greta lifted her head a little higher. Not to be outdone, the Bad Omen bird sat upright and put his beak in the air—trying to look big, imposing, intimidating.

"Gotcha!" Greta said, whipping the squirt gun from around her back and hitting the Bad Omen bird square in the breast with a blast of cold water.

Wet and angry, he flew off in a huff.

"Greta? Is the table set?" Sangria asked, bringing in the plates for what Yuuri liked to call "the breakfast meeting." And while it wasn't a tradition in their country, it was quickly becoming so. Gwendal quite liked the idea of getting a meal and business done at the same time.

"Yes!" Greta returned, "And I got that nasty old bird who likes to poop all over the rail gone, too." She was quite proud of herself.

"Good job!"

"So, did I help Daddy?" Her eyes shined at the prospect.

"Yes, you did," Sangria said back.

"But, I wish I _could_ _eat_ with Daddy today," she hinted with a small pout.

Sangria nodded. She had prepared herself for this. "Oh, that's too bad. I wanted you to eat with me."

"Really?"

"Yes. And I planned on us eating something _special_…"

"Like…?" Greta was on the hook. All Sangria had to do was reel her in.

"Cinnamon cake."

"Okay!" the child said and took Sangria by the hand. "I think we should have our own meeting in the kitchen along with tea and jam and butter."

"Of course. Of course," she said back and they swung their hands a little as they walked. "We can't let the men have all the fun."

"Right!"

"What's right?" Gwendal asked, coming in as they were going out.

"Oh," Sangria said with a bow, "breakfast is ready on the balcony." She gestured to an elaborate table set up with silver platters, beautiful plates and sporks, and linen napkins.

Gwendal grunted an approval and the girls left.

Gwendal, who was both a general and an administrator, liked the setup because he liked things in order, ship shape. He strolled casually onto the balcony. Still alone, he looked left and right before lifting a silver cover and peeking at the still sizzling pile of sausages underneath it. It smelled heavenly and made his mouth water. As long as the conversation stayed civil, he guessed that he'd probably enjoy this meal.

"Couldn't resist peeking?" Wolfram said, entering with a slight smile on his face. The blue uniform made his hair seem like spun gold in the early morning light.

"You're early," Gwendal replied dryly, noting his brother's sudden presence with some worry but trying to hide it. Wolfram preferred to be punctual—showing up exactly on time. The only thing worse than being too early was being too late.

"I suppose," the blond answered noncommittally.

Gwendal went to the railing, folded his arms on top of it, and leaned in. His back was to his little brother now. Sometimes, when Wolfram was little, looking away from him when speaking to him took the edge off. "Is there a problem?" He glanced down to see a very wet and angry Bad Omen bird sitting on a shrub preening himself. The bird shook his feathers, which immediately went "puff" and stuck up at all angles. Now, the feathered ball of crabbiness looked pissed off _and_ ridiculous.

"You didn't answer me, Wolfram."

The blond walked a few paces to join Gwendal at the railing.

"And if I said 'yes'?" Green eyes looked dull.

"And if I said that I'm concerned?"

Wolfram clicked his tongue at that. "Then, I'd take back my 'yes' and go into hiding."

Gwendal turned to his brother with narrowed indigo eyes. "Don't talk like that. You've disappeared before. And it has always caused trouble."

Wolfram nodded. He knew that his older brother was right. Running away only made him look petty and childish, like he couldn't handle his own problems. The blond tilted his head down a little, trying to sort through his possible answers.

"It's Yuuri, isn't it?" Gwendal said flatly.

"Yes," the blond said, lifting his chin up at his brother. "Isn't it always?" His emerald eyes were shining with tears again.

"This was the very thing _I did not want_," he grumped with his arms folded against his chest.

"I know," Wolfram said, "that's why you and the Great Sage kept urging me to swallow my pride and to break the engagement with Yuuri." He took a shallow breath. "I know I told you that it would be a huge dishonor to my family name if I did it. And it would. How Yuuri can rule our country and totally disregard our traditions is beyond me. But, still…yes…if I called off the wedding, I would lose family honor. But, the truth is," and he stroked a finger right and left on the railing to distract himself, "the truth is…he's more than just an arranged marriage to me. He's more than a fiancé."

What seemed to be arms folded against his blue military jacket, suddenly shifted. Wolfram was hugging himself. "I love Yuuri, Gwendal."

Gwendal's eyes opened wide at the admission. He knew it. They all knew it. They had known for so long. But, still, it was a shock to see prideful Wolfram state plainly his love for the monarch.

"Yes, break the engagement. And, from my view point, you gave me that advice just yesterday—leave Yuuri. End this farce. Let us both be happy and…somehow…stay friends. I think that's what everyone wanted…," the blond said and leaned a little against his brother's shoulder, "everyone…but…me."

Indigo eyes shot to Wolfram again. "Yesterday? That's really how you see it?"

"Yes," Wolfram said, "but I also know that I was ill and that my body…changed_." It changed back to a baby because of an accident in the lab._ "But I have no memory of any of that." Wolfram scratched his head and thought, _But_ _those pieces of memory that Shinou left me with—oh wow. I got quite an education from those. _He felt himself turning pink. _Who knew that the original sage was so limber? And I'm not sure that even I could stay in that position for very long. How he kept from throwing his back out…especially with his leg at that angle? I guess using the olive oil helped a little, but…_

"Wolfram? _Wolfram_!"

The blond's mind shot back to the present. "Sorry?"

"I said, "I want you to tell me again what you remember."

Green eyes slowly turned dull. "Before the arrow incident, it was the usual. I chased Yuuri through the castle because he was flirting with that pretty new maid with the pink and white hair."

"Oh, yes. Her." Gwendal nodded in agreement. He'd seen the girl and she was quite a looker.

"Of course, Yuuri hadn't really done anything. I called him 'cheater,' but I knew that he wasn't. I just hated being second place in his heart."

"Wolfram…" his brother said, "I had no idea you felt that way. I just thought…"

"…That I really believed the 'cheater' and 'wimp' lines…?" He smiled sadly at the thought. "I haven't meant those words for a really long time." Wolfram smiled up sadly at Gwendal. His eyes were full of tears again. At that, he felt a strong arm around his shoulders, pulling him in. And, for a second, it felt like he was a little kid again—going to his big brother with his problems, if only to have someone else know what he was going through.

"Gwendal, the Yuuri that I've always known hates me somewhere deep down. He pulls back when I touch him. He ignores me when we have parties and dances. He's with everyone else but me. I was the one who insisted on being a second father to Greta. And, when he's gone to Earth, I'm the one who parents her. He just assumes that she'll be fine with us." Emerald eyes looked away again at the horizon when Gwendal released him from the hug. 'I've forced my way into his life, and I've insisted that I be a part of it. Every time I mention the wedding, he avoids it." The blond laughed a little bitterly at that.

"But, now…?" Gwendal said.

"Now, suddenly, Yuuri holds my hand. He speaks to me and actually listens. And, in bed…"

"I think I get the picture," Gwendal cut him off.

"No you don't," the blond said quietly. "He's exactly the same as before. He shrinks away at my touch. But, now, he forces himself to cuddle with me."

"He does…what?"

Emerald eyes softened now. "He pretends to care about me…out of pity." Wolfram scratched his head. "I must have been sick for a really long time. Maybe, it scared him—never seeing death before. Never losing a friend."

His older brother shook his head. What he'd seen of Yuuri and the younger Wolframs, there was definitely a spark there. No mistaking it. "It's not pity."

"It is…it really is…" The blond sighed. "And the sage was right. There is no way Yuuri would desire a male fiancé. So, I'm finally taking the advice that you and the sage kept giving me but that I was just too stubborn to accept."

The administrator started to say something. His mouth was open to do it, but he was at a loss for words.

"I'll give up on Yuuri. He deserves better than this. Better than me."

Gwendal shook his head. "Consider long and hard before you do this. Try to imagine Yuuri Heika in the arms of someone else."

Another bitter laugh. "That's all I can see." He leaned against his big brother one last time. "When that happens, will you still be with me, brother? I'm going to be on my own again—just like before Yuuri came to Shin Makoku."

Wolfram fought back a sob.

Tears. They made shimmering trails down.

"Teach me how to smile and be happy for him." Wolfram's voice was wet now. "If I can learn to lie like that, I'll be able to give everyone what they want."

The blond felt his brother's large hand on his shoulder.

"Yuuri doesn't need me to sleep in his bed to protect him. He has the powers of the maou now. He can defend himself better than anyone." _I'm not necessary._ "I hate this life," he continued miserably. "Maybe, it would have been kinder if I had not made it back with the arrow in me. But I needed to see him so badly, one last time—even if he didn't want me."

"Enough," Gwendal growled.

"R-Right…sorry," Wolfram said, and wiped his wet face with his hand.

The doorway leading to the oversized balcony was still open ajar. On the opposite side, Yuuri leaned against the wall with his arms folded and his chin tilted toward the ceiling. He had listened to almost the entire conversation. He had waited, initially, for them to have a break in the conversation so that he could walk in without making them feel uncomfortable. But, now, that could not be done. He was seething and knew that it would be impossible to hide it. A part of him felt fury, actual fury, for Murata and Gwendal for what they had done. It took every ounce of strength that he had left in him not to go into Maou Mode. He could feel his eyes threatening to change into dark black slits.

And this time, it wasn't castle gossip. It was true—all true.

Wolfram was going to leave him.

* * *


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Jacob entered the room, stood at attention, and gave the three at the table a quick salute. His eyes looked at a point far, far away.

"And just what is one of my guards doing here?" Gwendal asked stiffly. He didn't like the idea of the man leaving his post without good reason. And this had better be a REALLY GOOD one.

"A page wasn't available, and I was on my way to eat breakfast before my shift, so Lord Günter von Christ sent me to convey a message."

Gwendal folded his arms and glanced down at the floor. "I'll have a talk with him about sending the right people to act as messengers around the castle." He made a "humph" sound and then looked back up. "So, what is it?"

"Well, sir, it appears that Lady Anissina von Karbelnikoff convinced Lord Günter to help her, briefly, with an experiment called 'Exceedingly-fast-no-need-to-refill-quill-note-taking-kun' which…umm….promptly exploded."

All three men at the table shot each other looks of relief. Thank goodness none of this had happened to them.

"We're still prying the quills out of the walls."

They stared back.

"The result being that Lord Günter is now in the baths trying to wash off three jars of blue-black ink from his hair and face."

"He's so vain," the administrator mumbled followed by slight chuckles from the two people around him.

The guard redoubled his efforts to be serious. "Therefore, he cannot join you for the meeting at this time."

With a nod from his superior, Jacob left.

Still processing what they'd heard, the small group ate quietly at the table. Gwendal had made some of the usual small talk and pulled a neat pile of papers closer to him and his plate. He thumbed through the top five documents.

"We won't be able to do much work this afternoon because of the town festival," Gwendal complained, "but we can catch up on the rest tomorrow."

Yuuri, who was staring intently at Wolfram and, as a result, having trouble focusing on this meeting, suddenly blinked at him with confusion.

"He means tonight's Festival of the Bells," Wolfram said. He wanted to add "wimp" and possibly "clueless wimp" to it. But, this was his last day as Yuuri's fiancé. And he wanted it to be as smooth and peaceful as possible.

"Oh, that's right. Greta mentioned something about it to me when I saw her in the hall."

"Well, with this being the start of the windy season and the warmer weather, people like to hang wind bells and listen to them. The local merchants make and sell them, too." Wolfram added, "It's also part of the legend down in the village."

"Legend?" Yuuri scratched his head.

"It's a story about a handsome man who wanted to see what his future bride would look like," Wolfram said and leaned his elbow against the table. He chewed his piece of toast without tasting the buttery flavor. "The man could never make up his mind which pretty girl in the village to marry, you see. So, on the night of the waning moon, just as it passed in front of the star Aldebaran—which made the star seem to appear and disappear around the edge of the moon many times, the man journeyed up to the mountains to find The Great Sage."

Yuuri thought of Murata and felt some of his anger toward his friend leave a little. He didn't know exactly why. But, maybe, it was because Wolfram was speaking again—not crying as before, just speaking. Yuuri studied Wolfram. His eyes were still pinkish around the edges and the sad, tearful blush had finally faded from his cheeks.

"Did he find the sage?" Yuuri asked.

"He did," Gwendal said and then took a sip of juice. "The sage gave the man a wind bell and told him to hang it in front of the entrance of his house. The bell would only ring for the one he was destined for—his soul mate."

Wolfram nodded. "If the bell didn't ring, then the gods didn't approve because they weren't tied with the red string."

"Oh, we have that in Japan!" Yuuri said, recognizing the "red thread of fate" from stories his mother had told him.

"So, every four years, we have this festival down in the village. And the town sure is noisy afterwards," Wolfram chuckled slightly and took another bite of sausage. It was the fiery, spicy sausage that he liked so much.

"Agreed," Gwendal said and wiped his fingers before exploring the bottom of the pile of papers.

"So, did he find what he was looking for?" Yuuri asked.

"What?" Wolfram said, distracted. He was glancing over his brother's shoulder at the document he was holding. "One second," Wolfram mumbled and turned to Gwendal, "I think that budget report needs to go by Conrad because he told me last week that there were some changes."

"I see," his brother said and made a quick note at the top of the first paper.

"Sorry, Yuuri, what was the question?"

"Did he ever find what he was looking for? His bride?"

Green eyes opened a bit at that. Of course, Yuuri would ask about a bride. "Oh…the story…" He held back a slight frown. "Yes, it was a beautiful girl who came to his house selling a basket of pears. But before they were married, she made him promise to never take the wind bell down."

"Why?" Yuuri asked, now caught in the story and not eating breakfast at all. It was a little amusing. It was strange how single minded the double black could be sometimes. Wolfram smirked to himself. He could see where Greta got her love of stories from. She was his daughter in all the ways that truly mattered. And, for the briefest moment, he wondered if there was anything of himself in Greta. Did she learn anything from him? _Probably not. And that's for the best, really. I have nothing to teach her._

"Well, you see, once they were married, the wife would appear and disappear around the house and the village—much like the way the star appeared and disappeared around the edge of the moon on the night the man went to see The Great Sage."

"Yes, I remember this part of the story," Gwendal said, taking a bite of toast.

"One night, there was a storm. So, the man went to the front of the house to get the wind bell before it blew away." Green eyes looked a bit sad at that. Yuuri couldn't understand why. "The magic was broken. And instead of a wife, he found himself married to a fox spirit." Wolfram took another bite of his food. It gave him something to do now. "He couldn't love her for what she truly was. So, she left him."

"The moral to the story," Gwendal said, "foxes are tricky."

"Tricky?" Wolfram rolled his eyes. "I thought it was just some story to get people to buy more wind bells and hang them up." He pushed some food around on his plate with a spork. Yuuri recognized that it was the same thing that the eight year old-looking "Wolfram" used to do to hide the fact he wasn't eating.

With one hand, the blond flipped his bangs back out of his eyes and then continued to divide his food with the spork. "Besides, people take down their bells in the winter. So, no one would really have their wind bells up forever anyway." He shrugged. "Everything ends."

Dark eyes shot a hard glance at him. It was time to stop being a wimp.

"Wolfram, would you like to go with me to the village tonight? Sure, it's going to be noisy, but the food should be good and there's a water juggler who is supposed to be fantastic."

Emerald eyes brightened at that. There was still a soft kind of sadness to the green, and he was having his doubts about Wolfram's answer, but, then, he saw the blond head nod.

"We'll take Greta with us, too."

"I thought it could be just…us," Yuuri said almost timidly. He hated having to ask in front of Gwendal, but under the circumstances, he felt he had no choice. He couldn't shake the feeling that the blond would disappear before his eyes if he so much as blinked. "Besides," and he coughed a little nervously into his fist when he felt the brothers' eyes on him," …and…besides… Anissina has already promised to take Greta to see the play that they're having in the town square. So, we'll definitely see them around."

Gwendal shot Wolfram an "I told you so" look, which was quickly ignored.

"Okay," Wolfram said quietly.

"Good," Yuuri came back with satisfaction, "but, first, I've got something I need to do." He brought the blue linen napkin to his lips and dropped it in the plate. "And the sooner, the better."

* * *

Murata walked down a hallway and enjoyed the sight of three shrine maidens scampering across his path and through an open doorway. The youngest, with light brown hair, stopped briefly to stare at him in awe.

"Alma?" a voice called to her right.

When she didn't answer, her other companion called her name—which snapped the young shrine maiden out of her little daydream. It didn't help matters that Murata was smiling at her in a secretive way that made her heart flutter.

"Coming…" she called back but had eyes on a handsome Murata heading her way. Then, she shook her brown curls and followed her companions. Before she left his sight, though, Alma gave him a little wink.

"That was fun," he murmured to himself as he watched the door close.

Then, the sage stopped in his tracks and looked around him.

Nothing.

"I can hear you, Shinou," he said quietly. Murata pushed his glasses up further on his face with his middle finger. "Are you finished being angry with me?"

Nothing.

"Hm? Laughing now, is it? What's so funny?" Murata smiled at that, but it was more of a response to a challenge than a genuine smile. "I thought sweet little 'Alma' would be a problem for you." He put his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "Does this mean that you've given up…on the things…the things we've _discussed_?" He looked around. He decided to jerk the chain a bit more. "Am I finally free of you?"

Soft footsteps echoed around the corner.

Murata put on the faux smiling mask that he reserved for most people he met with. And he was surprised when it was Yuuri who turned the corner looking angry.

"Y-Yuuri?" He stuttered. He'd really expected Shinou.

In his head, a voice said, "I'm going to be enjoying this, my sage."

"You're too much trouble," he thought back to the voice but only got a dark chuckle as a response. An invisible hand caressed his shoulder.

Murata blinked and suddenly realized that he had a very angry double black standing in front of him. His eyes were burning and his arms folded defensively against his chest. The fact that his body was still—too still—worried the sage, too. He stared at it all, trying to take it in.

"So, you and Gwendal have been trying to convince Wolfram to break off the engagement."

"Oh, is that all," Murata said lightly. He pretended to be relieved. "There's no need to thank me."

"I'm not!" Yuuri said hotly. "What were you thinking, meddling in my life! I have enough trouble keeping my mother and my brother out of my business. What makes you think I'd make an exception for you?"

While Yuuri didn't lose his temper very often, he was known to—especially with his older brother. And, on those rare occasions when it was aimed at his friend, Murata knew he only needed to bark back with a few words and put the "nice guy" in his place.

Murata's glasses got a silvery gleam and he pushed them up on his face with a finger. His voice grew serious. "Maybe it was because, in the beginning, you didn't mind Wolfram chasing after you all the time calling you 'cheater' and 'wimp.' The attention felt good. But, after three years of it, you were tired."

Yuuri rested his hands on his hips at that. Yes, some part of it was, in fact, true. But he wasn't going to be swayed so easily and he was still mad.

Murata took a step closer. "And you told me, more than once, that you wanted to get away from the annoying blond who wouldn't let you have a moment to yourself—even in the baths. There was no way you'd want a male fiancé. And he just wasn't taking the hint no matter how often you ignored the engagement." He narrowed his dark eyes into Yuuri's. "What part of that did I misunderstand?"

Yuuri nodded a little, but his eyes were just as stern. "But the decision was still mine to make. And I needed to be the one to talk to him." Then, Yuuri straightened when a thought occurred to him. "And as the 'all knowing sage' you should have at least given the advice to me, not him. But why do I need to tell you this? I thought you knew everything."

Murata shrugged a little at that, feeling guilty.

"I can't always '_see'_ what is to come."

Yuuri cocked his head at that. "How can you '_see_' anything?"

The sage sighed. "If I told you, then the magic would be broken. Or, worse, I could get a backlash—crating all kinds of problems that would, otherwise, never have happened."

Yuuri stared back unbelievingly. "So, when a whole lot of 'nothing' happens, that means you were right?"

Murata laughed nervously. "No, it just means that the danger has passed us by."

Yuuri shook his head at that and turned to go. Something inside of Murata told him to say something else—to reach out to Yuuri or their relationship would be permanently damaged. Yuuri might ask for his opinion again someday, but they'd never have the close friendship that he wanted and needed in this world—this place.

"Yuuri?" Murata called out.

The double black stopped but his back was still to the sage.

"Yuuri? Sometimes, people make mistakes. The sources that I went to showed me a time when you didn't have Wolfram by your side. And I didn't realize that the blond toddler that I kept seeing was…in fact…Wolfram."

This time, Yuuri turned to look at him.

Murata's face was sincere. "I was just trying to give you what you wanted most because you're my friend. And Gwendal wanted the same thing for you, too—to be happy." He shrugged a little. "To be free of Wolfram… It's what you said you wanted deep down," he continued lamely.

"Well, now, I…"

"I'm sorry, okay?" Murata interrupted, now sounding like a teenager instead of an all knowing sage. He squeezed his eyes shut and explained, "And, at the time, I had _no idea_ that Wolfram was your soul mate."

Black eyes were wide at that. "…Soul…mate…?" For Yuuri, suddenly time held no meaning. Everything stopped. One of the greatest mysteries of his life had been suddenly revealed to him in the form of an apology, and he simply wasn't prepared.

_I was pushing away the very person I needed? That can't be. I can't…no, I won't… accept that._

"I'm human, Yuuri. I can't see the red ties that bind people together. I just can't." Everything about Murata said that he was sorry now. "Shinou…Shinou can see it."

"He…can?" Yuuri's jaw dropped.

"And, sometimes…." Murata admitted hesitantly "…he can actually tie the strings…"

Yuuri put a hand up to stop him from talking any further. "Wait! Are you telling me that…Shinou…actually tied me…and Wolfram…the blond verbal tidal wave…together?"

Murata nodded weakly. _And it wasn't the first time he'd done that to someone. _He glanced down at his own ankle, the invisible tie was there. He knew it. But, he also knew that it was a tie between Shinou and the first sage. Murata guessed that it must have happened not long before the sage had taken Shinou's soul from his body. The first maou spent a lot of time on his own. It had to have happened then.

Now, Shinou was practically Murata's shadow. Maybe, forgetting Shinou in the next life would finally bring him some peace.

Yuuri could feel himself getting angry all over again. "If Wolfram is my soul mate, then I have to marry him." He shook his head angrily. "I'm just starting to feel…something…" He shook his head hard at that. "But, now…I don't know what I feel…"

Murata put his hands back into his pockets. He rocked on his heels again and thought before responding. "Yuuri, you don't have to marry him. Not everyone can be with their soul mate."

Yuuri glanced over to him, incredulous.

"It's…It's true." He took a deep breath and let it out. "Things happen. People hurt and get hurt by others. Forgiveness isn't always enough. Sometimes, it just isn't possible in this life to be together because too much has happened."

Yuuri shook his head "no." I can't accept this… "Why did Shinou tie me to Wolfram?"

Murata ran his hands through his long, thick hair. "Wolfram was born first. And his heart was designed to be one of the keys to the boxes."

"All of that, I know," Yuuri said impatiently.

"A soul mate is more than sex. It's more than love. It's a kind of 'connection'—a speaking without words. Back home in Japan, we'd call that connection ishin denshin."

The double black wanted to cut to the chase. This explanation was taking too long. "But something went wrong and I don't love him back. Is that it?"

Murata scratched the side of his nose, buying a minute to think up the right answer. "No, it's just that Shinou didn't have any way of knowing just how strong the culture of Earth would be on you. Gay relationships are simply wrong from your view. There's no changing that. So, Wolframs feelings are one sided and he suffers as a result."

"It's not fair."

The sage smiled sadly. "I take great comfort in the fact that life is unfair. I'd hate to think I deserved every rotten thing that's ever happened to me."

Yuuri put a hand to his head. Before now, he thought he knew what direction he would take in his life and, maybe, with Wolfram. Now, he wasn't so sure. Everything was a jumble all over again. Was anything he was doing or feeling even _real_ anymore?

"If it's any consolation, you're free. You really don't need Wolfram anymore. You can take care of yourself now, run the country, and go your own way. In the next life, there's a slim chance you'll never even meet him again," Murata said.

"But, he's my soul mate! And he's saved my life more times than I can count," Yuuri said with his voice reaching a louder and more frustrated tone that echoed down the hall. But, at this point, he didn't care if anyone heard him. His hand formed a fist at his side.

"That was the purpose Shinou designed for him: to love you, protect you, and—possibly—die in your place."

"And why is that?!" Yuuri was so angry he was shaking.

"Because you're the maou."

* * *


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

From behind the stables of Blood Pledge Castle, an undersized, mauve pigeon was winging back to the Meiger's with a letter for Marelda. This bird was exhausted—having delivered his message, he thought that he'd have a chance to roost for the night. But, no luck. He'd be going back immediately.

_Marelda:_

_I have received your letter and understand fully what you intend for me to do. The opportunity will come tonight at the Festival of the Bells down in the village. I know for a fact that both __Lord Wolfram von Bielefeld and Yuuri Heika will be attending the event in secret. The blond fool believes that he will be protecting the maou when quite the reverse is what's truly needed. Being the rash and self-important person that von Bielefeld is, much like his father if I recall correctly, he should cooperate with me quite nicely—even if he doesn't realize that's what he's doing._

_I've also discovered that Lord __Günter von Christ has been going through your ex-lover's journals in the Royal Library. If I had known they existed, I would have burned them all in the nearest fireplace. Lord von Christ's "research" was whispered about by the maids who clean in there. The fools were making bets that he was reading through them to find something scandalous or erotic. You and I both know differently. Lord Günter may have caught on to more of the situation than what he should know. If so, then we need to move with all possible speed._

* * *

When the sun began to set, Conrad was surprised to see the men pulling out small lanterns from their sacks and duffle bags, lighting them, and continuing on. The elder one was at the lead, his grey stubble becoming thicker. He had balanced his lantern on the end of his staff—lighting up the road with a soft, golden light.

_Why aren't they stopping for the night?_ Conrad gritted his teeth a little, a new habit he'd picked up from Yozak. There had to be a reason for this, but he couldn't guess what. Riding at night could be dangerous. The horse could step in a hole and break a leg. The light on the road could attract wild animals and robbers. He, himself, had no trouble at all tracking them in the dark. It was that simple.

He thought a little more as he rode along. Either the assassins were planning on an evening attack or they were needing to be somewhere by daybreak. Considering where they were now—the middle of nowhere—he guessed the daybreak option to be the more viable of the two.

Conrad glanced behind him for the briefest second. Deep down, he knew that Yozak was okay. He'd be fine where he was. The sky was clouded over with only a faint glow of the moon showing through. It was perfect for spying on the house. The worst conditions were under a bright, full moon. So, at the moment, Conrad was fairly confident that Yozak was doing okay.

Little did he know how wrong he was.

* * *

Wolfram sat on the end of the bed—rubbing a white towel over his head. He had just returned from the bath and was trying to do something with his hair, but his mind kept wandering. The blond frowned a little and reached down in his lap for the brush. He flipped his hair back and tried to focus. But, it was a struggle.

_Tonight… All I have is tonight with him. And, then, it's over. I wonder if he'll let me hold him…?_

The yellow silk bathrobe slipped off his left shoulder. He didn't even notice.

The bedroom door opened and Yuuri walked in wearing a matching, long yellow silk bathrobe that was a present from his mother, Jennifer. Like Wolfram, his hair was wet, too. He ran his fingers through it and tried to force a weak smile at his fiancé. He could see that the blond looked troubled. Why wouldn't he be? And Yuuri's own feelings were not much clearer, either.

"You didn't stay in the bath for very long," Yuuri said casually.

Wolfram turned his head and blinked at him. "I…umm…didn't realize you'd come in here," he said and brushed his hair a little quicker this time. There was purpose and determination in the strokes now. The blond said awkwardly, "…I actually… had been in the bath for awhile before you had joined me."

Yuuri wondered, briefly, if that was a lie or not. He decided to let it go.

There was a knock at the door.

"Oh, what now?" Wolfram said impatiently, flopping the brush onto the bed as he went for the door. For a brief second, he sounded like his old self. Yuuri realized that he missed _that_ Wolfram very much. His heart beat a little harder at the words.

The blond opened the door and found one of the maids standing there with a suit of clothes, a wig, and a palm-sized case.

"For you, Lord Wolfram von Bielefeld, from your mother." She handed the items over and gave a small curtsey before disappearing down the hallway.

"What is it?" Yuuri asked from behind. He didn't look at all surprised to see Wolfram carrying in a new suit of clothes: blue trousers, thin white shirt with satin on the sleeves, and a royal blue tunic top with piping. There was a brown wig and a case with blue contacts inside. The perfect disguise for their outing. "Another gift from your mother?" he asked politely.

Wolfram nodded back with a gentle smile. He held up a bracelet with a small bell attached to it. "She thinks of everything."

Wolfram put the clothes on the bed for further inspection and, much to Yuuri's surprise, his mouth turned down at the edges.

"What? Wrong size?" Yuuri asked. It wasn't like Lady Cecile to make a mistake. She knew her youngest son's sizes so well she had them memorized.

The blond picked up the tunic and ran his hands over the piping on the collar. There wasn't much—just a thin strand across. "It's black," he said quietly.

"And that's a problem because…?"

Wolfram gathered the garment in his arms and sat roughly on the bed. "It means I have an association with royalty and that I was given permission to wear the color." He narrowed his green eyes at the material. "I really shouldn't wear this considering what it symbolizes—being tied to royalty, I mean."

Yuuri almost flinched at the words "tied to" and thought of his red thread with Wolfram. They were tied. It was true. It was just that Wolfram didn't see it--didn't know it. A nagging part of him wanted to tell the blond that they were soul mates, that they were chosen to be together. But another part saw this tie as artificial. Just who would he have been with had nature been allowed to take its course? With the tie that they had binding them together, would it force Wolfram to stay? Yuuri shook his head at that.

"I think you should wear it."

There was an uncomfortable silence. Then, a soft "okay" was what he heard. It didn't sound like Wolfram's voice at all. And it irritated him. Yuuri wanted the loud, boisterous tone back.

"Yuuri?" Wolfram said, slipping his robe off and reaching for the trousers, "I never said 'thank you' for asking me to come with you tonight. I should have, though."

Yuuri, his back turned to give his fiancé more privacy when dressing, couldn't fight off the surprise. His head suddenly swiveled in the blond's direction. Wolfram saw it, shrugged to himself, and went for the shirt. It kept him busy.

"Pardon?" The double black uttered the word while he squeezed a tube of temporary hair dye into his hands and ran the brown gel into his hair.

"It was just a nice thing to do. Thank you."

A part of Yuuri wanted to say, "What? No attitude? No lines like, 'Of course you'd want me to come along. I'm your fiancé.' Or anything like that?"

Wolfram turned his head to one side and studied Yuuri with a sad smile. "I haven't been out with friends in a long time. So, tonight should be fun."

Yuuri bit his lower lip as he reached for the brown outfit trimmed in leather that he liked to wear when incognito. "Friends..." he said as though he couldn't believe Wolfram. Mentally, he kicked himself. This was exactly what he'd wanted at the beginning—to move from being accidental fiancés to "just friends." But, it felt wrong somehow and terribly lonely.

Within twenty minutes, Yuuri no longer recognized Wolfram. The young man was standing before him with a blue tunic in soft material with brown shoulder length hair, blue contacts, and the bell bracelet made of thick silver on his left wrist. Wolfram's new attitude and posture made the Mazoku seem like he was contemplative, peaceful. But Yuuri saw a face that was clearly mourning something unspeakable. And he knew what it was.

_I don't want it to be like this…_

Yuuri put in his dark brown contacts, blinked a bit, and offered his hand to Wolfram.

Lowering his head a little shyly, Wolfram took the warm palm in his.

"Since I asked you out…this evening…well…," Yuuri said, looking at him and picking his words carefully, "…I want us to have some fun…together."

He leaned into Wolfram's face a little. "So, smile for me."

And Wolfram did.

* * *

It was almost time to go. Murata was putting his black jacket on when he felt the presence again. He sighed openly, hoping that Shinou would catch the hint. He'd had enough of this and a part of him wasn't up to the sound of laughing from a disembodied soul. Murata was going to the festival. He was going to have fun—alone—so that he could find a cute girl or two. And two would be nice. He was _The Great Sage_, after all. The very last thing Murata wanted was to have the maou's soul tagging along. But a hand gripped him hard and he felt himself being pulled out of Murata Ken's small, slender body.

He was falling in the penumbra.

"Shinou!" Murata shouted with his eyes scrunched tightly. His ancient voice was back. Murata was, once again, the sage of old. His hair whipped around his face and shoulders. "You are here with me. I sense it. Come to me, Shinou." He was still falling in the darkness. He took another deep breath. "Shinou!"

Behind the sage, a well built, masculine form emerged.

"Looking for me?" he whispered in his ear. "I'm pleased."

The sage turned and met with a pair of intense blue eyes framed by a face with blond hair flying away from it.

"I seek you, yes," the original sage said, feeling a bit flustered. His voice was a forced calm now with stern eyes. "I wish to know why I'm here."

Shinou put a hand on the man's shoulder and caressed it with a gentle touch. He leaned in. "A danger is approaching and you may, yet, be able to help Wolfram." The tone was even and businesslike, but the concern was unmistakable.

Nonetheless, the sage shook his head. "You ask the impossible. And Yuuri should make his own decisions. For the greater good, I need to avoid him."

A blond eyebrow quirked at that. "But I mentioned 'Wolfram,' not 'Yuuri."

"The red string that binds them makes their paths parallel. Therefore, I cannot help."

Shinou frowned deeply at that. Obviously, the man would need some convincing.

"You, my dear sage, are an oracle wielder. A fairly strong one. Not the best or most impressive that I've ever seen…but, strong." Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw his companion shoot him a look. That was good. "But, under your own power, it takes so much out of you...you sleep for a week. That's why I think you need me…here…right now." To emphasize his point, he gave a small, melodramatic sigh which got him nothing more than a faked yawn from the other man. There was an unmistakable "get this over with" vibe in the air, too.

"It's one of your deep, dark secrets." The blue eyes had an insistent, steely glare now.

"This is pointless…"

It was rare for anyone to tell the first maou "no." The only one brave enough was The Great Sage. He usually found a way to convey the meaning of "no" without uttering the word outright. But when the sage did tell him that, the blond king never took it very well.

"Oh, yes you can…oracle wielder…_Murata Ken_…"

His companion looked away, seemingly unaffected by the name connected to his new life, but Shinou knew better and continued with almost a teasing tone now.

"Maybe this is something Yuuri Heika needs to know about Murata Ken…The…Great…Sage. Because, after all, everyone at Blood Pledge Castle is so _open_ and _honest_ with each other."

The sage stared back passively.

The blond king tilted his head coyly. "Why is it that you never ask a question unless you already know the answer?" There was a masculine chuckle at that. "Wait… Let me answer my own question, shall I? That's because you want to know if someone is being entirely truthful with you because you've seen pieces of it all beforehand—here, in this place, with your original form, with the eyes that can see everything and nothing in the black void. Isn't that so?" He floated around and sat next to the sage's right side—touching shoulder to shoulder. "Well, I have my own powers and gifts. You have yours. And we," he said leaning in and brushing his lips against his companion's cheek, "complement each other."

The sage blushed at that but shook his head. "You tied us together. I shall never be free of you."

Shinou glanced at him, losing a little spark of joy in doing so. "What you mean is," he said seriously, "that you will never forgive me for what I did…what I did _to you_…back then."

For the first time, the sage turned to Shinou with hurt in his eyes. "I do not wish to talk about it."

Shinou grabbed the sage by his arm and pulled him closer. "Do you know what I think? I think you haven't forgiven me because you refuse to forget." He saw the sage cringe and knew that he was right. "I think you do more than just dwell on what I did to you. I think you remember it—relive it. Afraid. You're afraid because of it."

The sage shook his head "no," but Shinou continued.

"And I know, because I've seen through your eyes, my dearest sage…that when you've looked at Wolfram, you've seen me."

Roughly, Shinou let him go.

He ran his fingers through his own long, brown hair—thinking of how to respond to that. The blond man grinned darkly. "It didn't take much prodding from Yuuri to use your oracle wielder gifts to see his near future and you were, somewhere deep down, relieved to glance at a future without Wolfram in it."

Shinou's blue eyes were burning into him.

"Admit it."

"What I saw was a little child. I had no way of knowing it was Wolfram."

"Just admit it!"

"I've already told you, it's impossible for me to help. So, why else have you brought me here?" the sage asked again. He forced a seemingly bored look on his face—the same look that could drive Shinou mad at times when they argued.

"Well, here's your chance to save the day, my sage," Shinou said, producing a small water-mirror the size of a rice bowl. "Sometime during the Festival of the Bells tonight, Wolfram will be speeding toward his future—a future that both you and I created because we used our 'gifts' separately instead of together."

The sage watched the watercolor images in the mirror passively.

"Look again at this." He waved a scarred hand over the mirror and the images repeated. "I bent and altered events in one direction, you did the other," Shinou complained. "So, this is the result." He gestured to the image of Wolfram riding away on his white horse with Yuuri following behind.

"Why change them at all?" the sage asked, still very much put out. "And why…at this time?"

Shinou started to speak but stopped himself abruptly. Instead, he folded his arms against his chest and glanced around the penumbra. "I can't reveal that right now."

"I see… Forgive me, but if I recall correctly, you once informed me that _one of Wolfram's initial purposes_ happened to be as a likely sacrifice for Yuuri as a shield."

"To die honorably with a purpose, yes—that's always a possibility. But to die needlessly and alone…no."

"Then, rescue him yourself." The sage knew that it was petty and self-centered when he said it. But, somewhere deep down, he was curious to see if Shinou had some other "gifts" in his present spirit form that he did not know about.

Shinou's brow wrinkled as he looked down at the water-mirror again. The images on the surface blurred together and the new scene was of Wolfram tied up, arms hoisted above his head, with rills of blood trailing down his pallid face.

The blond king took the mirror away, but the sage had seen the bloodied Mazoku in the water and his head craned to see more.

"You _did not_ show me that before!" the sage said in a tone that challenged the restraint that he had been trying to keep up. He was at a loss. The blond king was not playing with him to get attention. He was totally serious about the danger.

"I will be doing all that I can…because I, at least, acknowledge my share in this affair."

The sage pulled a strand of long brown hair behind his ear. It was tickling his cheek. And he wondered, briefly, if that was Shinou's doing as well. But it was a welcome distraction from his new and pressing problem. "Yuuri wants me to stay out of his life. If I meddle again…" _I will lose him._

"Too bad."

"As I've just said," the sage repeated with a worried tone that was beginning to betray his feelings, "if I meddle again…"

"If you don't, Wolfram will _die_." Shinou's eyes darkened to a whole new shade of blue, hard and distant. "But, maybe, that's what you want."

"Of course not!" He'd done it now. The sage had finally lost his temper. _How dare…?!_ "There would be no reason! Why would I?"

"To punish me."

* * *

The impromptu meeting with Günter was boring. Some part of Gwendal actually felt the teensiest bit sorry for Yuuri and this week's long winded history lessons in the library. Günter could talk the horns off a billy goat.

Gwendal covered a yawn as he continued on. At least, now, he was free of the chatty advisor and could stretch his legs with a casual stroll back to his quarters.

Gwendal turned and continued down a hallway only to see what looked, to him, like a couple in love. They were walking hand in hand, whispering in each other's ears and laughing softly. The one with short brown hair had a slightly deeper voice and a jovial tone. He'd pull back the shoulder length brown hair of his partner and say something to which the response would be a stifled laugh followed by a finger to lips "Shush!"

Both stopped in their tracks when they spotted him.

"Excuse me, but do I know…" Gwendal began, head cocked to one side.

Yuuri noticed that Wolfram's first response was to let go of his hand. But, being determined to not be a wimp tonight, he held on firmly—which earned him a darkening blush.

Yuuri stared into Wolfram's eyes. They seemed to say "Well, who's the wimp now?"

Wolfram gave him a nod. Time to drop the act.

"It's us," Wolfram said to his brother, walking forward and dragging Yuuri along behind him. For a second, he'd forgotten that they were still holding hands. He grimaced a quick apology in the double black's direction for yanking him thoughtlessly.

Gwendal raised an eyebrow. "Yuuri Heika? Wolfram? I didn't recognize you—either of you—like this." His tone sounded mildly surprised. Then, he eyed the couple's hand holding and another "I told you so" look was shot at Wolfram. But the sincere expression on his brother's face conveyed that all was not well. He was going on with what he planned to do. And, in that instant, Gwendal convinced himself that it had nothing to do with him anymore. He'd given the best advice possible—"think before you act." And, just as he promised, he would only be able to stand by and hug his baby brother when the time came.

Yuuri laughed awkwardly and put a hand behind his head. "Considering the attempt on Wolfram's life with 'the painted arrow,' I decided it would be best to go in disguise."

Wolfram huffed a little at that. "Well, you're the maou. You need to be in disguise, too, in case they decide to switch targets—or we get mobbed by the local officials who want to know when we're going to repair the road in front of the mayor's house."

"Oh, I really need to sign that paperwork for the mayor, huh? I keep shifting that fifty page permit request to the bottom of the pile," Yuuri muttered to himself.

Wolfram smacked a hand across his own face, bit back the word "wimp," and stifled a groan, which made the double black more than happy.

Gwendal's left eye twitched at that. Then, he shook it off. This was the end of the day, after all. The royal documents could wait for a few more hours. Then, he asked, "Do you need additional soldiers for protection?"

_Additional?_ Yuuri blinked at that question. The last thing that he wanted on his night out with Wolfram… A date. Yes, in some hidden part of his heart, he reluctantly called it a date. Yuuri didn't want to be watched over and then have his night reported back, in graphic detail, to the castle.

"No, I think we'll be fine."

"We can protect ourselves," Wolfram agreed with a hand to the hilt of his sheathed sword. He rattled it a little with boyish satisfaction. Yuuri remembered three year old looking "Wolfram" having the same glow.

"Then, I suppose, I will see you both tonight," Gwendal grumped, now walking away.

"You're coming, too? That's great," Yuuri said to his back—watching the man disappear down the hall.

Wolfram watched the retreating figure go with a sparkle in his eyes. "It's not a choice. He has to go. There's a traditional 'strawberry pie' competition that he has to judge. By the end of it, his lips will be red for a week." Wolfram grinned a bit at the thought of a fat, juicy, red-lipped Gwendal.

Yuuri twisted his hand to lace his fingers with Wolfram's. "You did it again," he said, leading Wolfram away to the stables to fetch their horses. The voice sounded happy and relieved.

"Did…what?"

"You smiled."

* * *


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Shinou relaxed a little. He was still freefalling in the penumbra with his blond hair waving all around his face. He had just sent the sage back, but not before the man had given him more than a few choice words that were totally off the topic as far as he was concerned. And it had all gone into such a blur of terms and accusations that Shinou chose to ignore them all rather than to sit back and contemplate every sour word. And, probably, that was why he'd returned the sage—or Murata Ken, now—back—but not into the bedroom from which he'd fetched him. No. He'd gently placed Murata Ken on a toilet in the Shrine Maidens' communal bathroom at the far end of the hall.

In Shinou's head, he could hear what the sage heard—several shrine maidens with full bladders shrieking "Great Sage!" followed by some cursing in Murata's head and the dull echo of a pair of feet stomping out of the bathroom.

_Moving the soul was easy. Moving Murata Ken's body down the hall took some effort without the sage noticing what I was doing._

A dark smile.

"Now, now…" Shinou said back to him with amusement, "is that the kind of thing a sage should be thinking? I'm to do 'what' with my 'what'? I'm dead. And, even if I weren't, I don't believe that's anatomically possible." He chuckled back, feeling the teenager's blood rushing to his cheeks. "Seriously…? Is that an invitation, my dear sage?" Another dark smile crossed his lips. "If you'll stop bellowing at me in your head, and be kinder to me, I'll visit you in your dreams tonight. I seem to remember that you once liked olive oil very much…"

Now, he laughed. He simply couldn't help himself.

* * *

It was well after sunset when the group of five stopped. Within the last few legs of the journey, Conrad had gotten more and more concerned because he recognized it—the route that he would have taken back to Blood Pledge Castle if he were going home.

_Are they going to sneak into the castle? Attack someone? _

"Okay," the boss called over his shoulder to the men in the group. "This is the place."

"Yeah, yeah…we know," the fat nosed one griped back. He scratched his blubbery ass.

The group of five stopped at the fork in the road. Conrad felt sick inside when they did it. For, this was the same place where Wolfram had been attacked while on patrol.

_Wolfram._

Of course, Wolfram had only asked to go to get away from everything. A break, really, from Yuuri. And, at the time, Conrad had hoped that Wolfram would see things more clearly and, as a result, gain some much needed patience and perspective. Instead, the blond little brother that he was so fond of was shot with an arrow and almost died. As far as Conrad was concerned, this place was cursed.

"Okay, get off and get ready," the boss growled. The others followed his lead, feeling thankful to put their feet on solid ground again. They'd been on the horses for far too long—only getting off to water a tree now and then.

Conrad's eyes narrowed angrily. Something awful was going to happen—and soon.

* * *

"I believe that this is the place," Yuuri said, leading Wolfram along a dirt trail in the direction of some khaki tents that had been set up on the outskirts of the festival grounds. The flags of the different aristocrat houses waved on either side—giving the festival a final splash of color in the quickly fading light. Hitching posts had been set up, too, for the horses of the nobility. And Gwendal had arranged for stable hands from both the castle and the village to look after the horses.

Two of the castle stable hands were placed in charge, naturally. And they enjoyed their casual chatting back and forth—only straightening up their behavior when a noble would come with his horse. Gwendal, who was known for being particularly strict, got the two acting more like soldiers than stable hands, which pleased him. But now that he was long out of sight, they relaxed a little.

"We've got two more comin'."

The second stable hand glanced up and stopped. His companion did likewise. They gaped at the riders and then at each other when they recognized a pair of particularly beautiful, well-bred horses—one black and one white. The two young men approached with caution—not knowing the riders. While the short, brown haired man and the man with straight, shoulder length brown hair didn't appear to be particularly threatening, it could still be a problem.

"Thank you," Yuuri said, getting off and handing the reins over. It was only then that the pair realized that this was their king in the darkening twilight. And Wolfram's soft chuckle was easily identifiable. Now, they knew what was going on and grinned broadly to each other.

"We need to go in that direction," Wolfram said. Having attended the festival before, he knew the route well. He brushed out the wrinkles on this blue tunic.

"I'm with you," Yuuri chimed in and walked by his side. But, as he stomped through a patch of high weeds, he glanced back behind them. "We gave those two a scare, I think. They probably thought we stole our own horses."

Wolfram trudged on and pushed the brown wig hair out of his eyes. "Good. That means that they'll stay on their toes for the rest of the night."

"And if not?" Yuuri wondered out loud.

"If not," he returned in a jovial tone, "my brother will make them wish they had stayed on their toes—if they even have toes once he's finished."

Wolfram walked on, tucking brown wig hair behind his ear.

"Wow," the double black said as a kind of impressed sigh. His eyes strained to take it all in.

Yuuri stepped into the village square and found himself in a virtual fairyland. There were candles floating in the fountain. The churning waters smelled of lavender. Around the base of the fountain, lanterns were flickering golden light. There were rows of torches set up on eight foot poles which made parallel lines of dotted light. They lit up the booths and tables in front. Hundreds of vendors had set up—trying to sell everything from wind bells of all sorts and colors to exotic knickknacks from around the world. A traveling theatre troupe had constructed a wooden stage with red curtains billowing. The smell of grilled apple sausage and wine blew on the wind. And the soft tinkling of wind bells made the world gain an ethereal beauty while the stars in the heavens winked down on them.

"So pretty!" Yuuri said, impressed at the scene. His face took on a boyish look.

"It is at that," Wolfram agreed.

"Wait, I thought you said that this festival would be too noisy." A dark eyebrow wiggled at Wolfram who returned the look with a slight pout.

"To be honest," he said reluctantly, "I almost always come to this festival by myself. So, I suppose, it just seems noisier." His tone tried to spell disinterest, but the double black wasn't buying any of it. He leaned into Wolfram's ear and pulled the hair back a bit. "Almost always…alone?" He took a little bit of joy from the fact that he made Wolfram visibly squirm. Yes, he seemed to be hiding something.

"So," Yuuri said casually, trying to keep his tone even, "who did you bring here?"

"It was a long time ago." Wolfram shrugged and stopped to look at a table that was stocked to the brim with jewelry. "Oi, do you think Greta would like this?" He held up a small necklace with a star pendant carved out of jade.

"This is Festival of the Bells," Yuuri said, "so we need to get her a wind bell. Right?"

"Yes, I suppose so," Wolfram agreed, eyeing the next table for a yellow one. Greta's latest "favorite color" was yellow. Tomorrow, it could be something else. Wolfram didn't see anything that he liked so he strolled on.

"You didn't answer my question," Yuuri prodded coyly.

"Yes, well…" Wolfram shrugged to himself. He was going to break up with Yuuri tonight anyway. What would be the harm? "Her name was…Tawny and she was…always interested in parties and shopping... So, she'd drag me to these places."

"Tawny? A girl?"

A glare was his answer.

"Was she…_cute_?" Yuuri asked, a smirk etched into his features now. It was fun to hear Wolfram talk about his past, not that he didn't know that his fiancé had one. In a small way, this was payback. The previous "Wolfram" had called him a "virgin" and mentioned, quite casually, that he, himself, was experienced in the bedroom.

"Cute? Very," he said and pretended to inspect some glass wind chimes.

Yuuri watched the salesman move away from them to help another customer. "So, uh…she was your…first?"

Wolfram froze. His face visibly colored. Even in the darkness, Yuuri could see it had turned blood red. Feeling the sudden need to take pity, so he added, "Your first _kiss_, I mean…?"

Faux blue eyes narrowed at him. "I don't suppose that I need to ask you about your first kiss?"

Yuuri laughed nervously and put his hand behind his head. "I think I just need to mind my own business."

"Please," his companion said as a sigh. "A gentleman never discusses…" Then, he shot a glance at Yuuri behind him. He was fidgeting with is fingers, trying to decide whether or not he'd truly insulted Wolfram.

_Guilt again_, he thought. _When will Yuuri stop doing that? It's not like I care or even think about the two people I slept with. It meant nothing…and still does…_

Moving on, Wolfram found a wind bell made of copper with a yellow paper counterweight. The wind pushed against the bright yellow paper and it chimed with an otherworldly sound. Wolfram closed his eyes and almost purred at it.

"We'll take it," Yuuri said to the skinny as a rail salesman with fly away hair, "and the purple one here, too."

Wolfram opened his eyes at that. "Purple?" He handed the yellow wind bell to the salesman to wrap up.

"Yes," the double black replied with a knowing smile. "Your mother told me that she had a purple dress with jingle bells on it made for Greta to wear tonight. So, of course, her favorite color, for tonight at least, will be…purple."

Now, Wolfram wore an impish smirk. "That's our daughter…"

"And I'm sure that she's around here somewhere with Anissina."

"…Yes…So excited, she's practically dancing." Wolfram could almost see her in his imagination prancing and twirling. "She's so much like you, you know. Happy, I mean..." He grinned at his own words as the salesman handed Yuuri a bag with two small boxes inside and the change.

"Your bells," the man said.

"Thanks."

Wolfram felt something _smack_ into him and he took a step back, his hand to the hilt of his sword.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" It was a man's voice and Wolfram had to tilt his face up to see who was talking to him. Two olive skinned men, tall and rather fair haired, stood beside him holding an infant. The baby girl stared at Wolfram with large, lilac eyes and a drooly mouth blowing bubbles. Behind the first man holding the baby, a young boy, who looked no older than Greta (but probably was because he was a Mazoku) peeked out from behind while picking his button nose with an index finger.

"It's okay," Wolfram said diplomatically and was a little surprised to see a chubby dragon doll at his feet. "I think you are looking for this." He picked it up and the baby immediately reached out for it. "Ma!"

"Mine?" Said the man holding the baby. "Are you trying to say 'mine'?" He grinned brightly at his genius child.

"Please forgive my husband," the second man said and snaked an arm around his waist affectionately, "not only does he think our daughter knows everything, he can translate 'baby talk' to 'correct speech.'"

Wolfram handed the doll over to the baby. The child, noticing the beautiful brown hair that Wolfram was sporting, decided to make a grab for it instead. But, with the quick reflexes he got from his sword training, dodging was fairly easy.

"Oh, Rosa, that isn't nice. Be a good baby." She got a finger wagged in front of her face.

"No harm done," Wolfram said, pulling the brown hair behind his left ear. He made another attempt to hand the doll over and the baby snatched it.

"So, are you married?"

Wolfram's jaw dropped a little. He tried to recover before Yuuri saw it.

"Dear, I don't think that's really a good question to ask someone you just met." He turned to Wolfram. "My husband is also very nosy, sorry."

"It's just that he's so cute. He can't possibly be single."

"Ba! Ma..ba…ba!" The baby joined in.

"See? Rosa agrees with me…"

"It's okay," Wolfram said, forcing himself to keep an even tone. "I'm not married."

"Oh, really?" He felt bad about it now. "Well, that's actually a good thing," the man said and tried to keep the baby in his arms from smacking his face with the doll. "Being single is fine, too. Your life is your own and you can pretty much call the shots." The baby squirmed and he rested her against his shoulder.

"And with that, we should be going. Sorry, again, about being hit with the doll." With his hand still resting against his husband's waist, the man steered his family in the direction of the theatre stage.

Wolfram shook his head and pretended to go back to browsing the knickknacks at the table. _Lucky._ He glanced back at the four of them as they walked. The little boy fell flat, picked himself up, and was whisked into the arms of his other father. _They have no idea just how lucky they are._

The whole time, Yuuri pretended to find a ceramic mug particularly interesting. He'd examined it three times while trying not to listen in on Wolfram's conversation. While it was nice to see a male couple and their kids, it was also hard on him because that was just the kind of life that his blond soldier wanted most.

"Wolfram…um…" Yuuri began reluctantly.

"Are you ready?" Wolfram interrupted.

"Wha-?" _What is he talking about? Ready for what? Marriage?_

"Are you ready to see the play?" He cocked his brunette wigged head to one side. "I think they're starting now."

"Oh," Yuuri almost sighed, turning his gaze in the direction of an actor in a mismatched, colorful costume who was standing on the theatre stage with a huge scroll of paper in hand. The limelight gave him an eerie glow as he pretended to read from the prop-scroll. "All citizens interested in seeing a production of the fabulous story of _**The Magic Wind Bell**_, come gather 'round! Join us! Join us!" He made wide, sweeping gestures toward the grassy lawn that stretched in front of him. "We will be starting in a few! So, come! Please do!"

Wolfram took Yuuri's hand and they made a roundabout journey to the stage. It seemed odd. Yuuri was about to point that out when he noticed a particularly beautiful little girl with sausage curls and a satin bow wearing a purple and silver sparkle dress. Anissina was explaining how the stage worked and the science behind the system of pulleys that retracted the curtains and scenery. Greta was pretending to understand it, but nothing seemed to stay with her. She was only ten after all.

"It's me," a familiar voice said behind her.

"Yuuri!" she chirped when she finally recognized him.

"Greta! You look great." Yuuri's face brightened, which was clearly visible thanks to the burning torches making an arc around the stage.

Wolfram took a few steps back. He wanted them to enjoy their moment. Anissina noticed, folded her arms, and eagle-eyed him. If the fiancé was true to form, he'd wait for Yuuri to have his turn before barging in and demanding a hug from Greta, too. He didn't. Instead, he wore a placid and somewhat distant look on his face. His hands weren't on his hips, waiting impatiently for Yuuri. Instead, they hung loosely at his sides.

"And I've got bells and everything…!" Greta continued, giving the waist a shake like a bouncy twist.

"Well, I'm glad you're happy."

The little girl gestured for Yuuri to bend down and let her whisper in his ear.

"And Wolfram is…?" she asked, looking around.

Yuuri pointed to the man behind him with the brown hair and blue eyes.

The child approached him, unable to blink. She was trying to see through the disguise for the second father that she knew.

"Hi, Greta," Wolfram said and she ran to take his hand. The voice was his—unmistakably his. When she grabbed his hand, it made a gentle, tinkling. Greta squinted at the silver bracelet on Wolfram's wrist, noting each curve and detail. Then, she give the bell a tiny push. The sound was pretty.

"Let's have a seat and watch the play," Anissina suggested, still watching the odd behavior from Wolfram. Yes, something about him was wrong. It was all wrong.

* * *

Yozak was inside the Meiger's blacksmith's shop. He had been tied tightly with several ropes. His wrists were bound behind his back. His knees were roped together as well as his ankles. Yozak's mouth had been crammed full with a dirty handkerchief, pushing part of his tongue to the back, and another handkerchief was firmly in place and tied at the back of his head to keep him from spitting it out or calling for help.

Yozak struggled to keep breathing, but his full mouth made it very hard. He was out cold with a purpling shiner under his left eye and a split lip on the left side as well. Other bruises, over his neck, arms, and hands were darkening, too.

He was sitting in the corner on the filthy floor. His upper body was propped up. The orange haired man shifted a little while regaining consciousness which resulted in his face resting against a wall that was stocked full of metal tools hanging on dusty hooks. He was also near a collection of hammers of different sizes (not that the heavy tools would help him in the slightest considering his present situation).

"Idiot," Marelda spat, walking with almost a smug gait to the back part of the shop to see how he was doing. "Once I've seen your face and your aura, it's child's play to sense you—even in the dark." She paced back and forth. "Taking out your knee with that hammer was simple…and after that….well…it's good to know that the knock-out powder works quickly, too. It's one of our best selling items, by the way." Then, she narrowed her eyes at him. "What I need to know is who sent you." She knelt down and stroked his face with her hand before striking him as hard as she could. He groaned a response. "Someone from Blood Pledge Castle sent you here to spy on me…but who?" She placed a long fingernail against his cheek and dug a scratch into it.

In the darkness, near the lonely stretch of road where the gang was preparing for an ambush, Conrad took a sudden, sharp breath. Unprepared for it, he almost tumbled forward through the trees and the brush—gripping, instead, onto a low branch of a tree. His head snapped back. His eyes looked along the road he'd just traveled. Nothing. "I thought I heard…felt…" Conrad's eyes scanned the blackness one last time and murmured "Yozak…?"

With a self-satisfied smirk, Marelda leaned into his face. There was a bloodied scratch now under his right eye. "Was it that von Christ idiot?" She stepped back from Yozak and regarded him seriously for a moment. "Well, I have a feeling that you won't be the only guest that we have here. And, once I'm done, you won't have to worry about whether or not you get paid for your work. In fact, I'm afraid that you'll never see that pretty castle of yours ever again."

With that, she blew him a kiss and left.

* * *

Greta watched the actors on the stage with her mouth hanging open slightly. She was totally caught up in the story. Every move and gesture seemed to speak only to her. Yuuri, sitting by her side, had the same expression. He didn't dare say a word, let alone breathe.

On Yuuri's other side, Wolfram sat peacefully with his hands folded in his lap. He wasn't exactly shoulder to shoulder with him. Instead, he was sitting slightly away from the pair. He could see the double black's profile and laughed a little on the inside. Yuuri just seemed so drawn in. It was more amusing than the production.

The actress who was playing the role of the wife was dressed in a reddish-brown floor length gown with a low cut bodice. She had auburn hair, ocean blue eyes, and a diamond shaped face that spoke of mischief. Her waist was thin but her breasts were fat and full, making her waist seem that much smaller in comparison.

Greta pointed at her. "Isn't she pretty, Yuuri?"

The double black didn't know how to answer that. He could practically feel Wolfram's battle aura at the thought of acknowledging a girl was "pretty" to him. To keep himself out of trouble, he said truthfully, "You'll be more beautiful when you grow up."

"You really think so?" Greta was thrilled at the prospect of becoming a beauty when she got older.

"Of course you will," Wolfram said, and Yuuri let go of the breath he was holding. Wolfram wasn't mad after all. _Good._

"But she sure is pretty," Greta repeated—now wanting to grow up a bit faster so that she could compete with the busty actress.

"Quite beautiful," Wolfram mumbled. He was sitting Indian style, now, with an elbow resting on a thigh. His face in his palm. His thoughts were far away.

Yuuri shot a look as though Wolfram had uttered profanity. "What did you...?" Yuuri said with his eyes widening.

"It's true," Anissina said, sitting behind the trio so that she could observe Wolfram a little more. Her arms were crossed, and the little part of her nature that proudly wore devil horns wanted to prod Yuuri and Wolfram a bit to see what was going on.

"What have you done? You took down the wind bell!" the actress cried on stage. She turned away from the audience, tied on a fox fur cape and put on a pointed mask with fox ears. She sobbed. "Why did you do that? You promised me! You swore."

The husband's character gave a melodramatic gasp. He looked on in horror at what his wife had become—her true self.

The audience gaped and held its breath.

The wife stretched out her arm and offered a tiny paw to the man she loved.

He shook his head "no" and turned his back on her.

The fox wife then jumped off the stage and ran through the audience and into the night.

Greta watched her go. "Why didn't he want her?" she said to Yuuri.

He laughed a little at her. "Greta, it's just a play. And those are actors. They do what the play's script tells them to." He thought about it a little and said, "It's kind of like Günter's lectures only with lots of people and better acting." He laughed at his own joke.

"But, I don't understand," Greta insisted. "Why couldn't he love her for what she was? They had been together. So…why?"

While Yuuri was thinking of an answer, Wolfram talked over the concluding lines of the play. "Because, he couldn't accept love from someone like that," Wolfram said evenly.

Anissina finally caught on. It wasn't a fight between Yuuri and Wolfram. It was something much worse. Wolfram was giving up. She sighed openly and said. "I agree with that statement. They were just too different."

Yuuri gave them both impatient looks.

"It's just a play," the double black told their little group. "Nothing more."

Anissina sighed to herself. _Clueless as usual…_

The red headed inventor stood up, brushed the grass off of her skirt, and took Greta by the hand. "Well," she said cheerily, 'we are off to the strawberry pie competition. And, by the end of it, I'm sure that Gwendal will need my latest invention."

"Latest invention?" Yuuri and Wolfram parroted.

"Yes! It's called 'rub-your-lips-back-to-normal-color-kun' which is shaped like a banana."

"Great," the two guys said without convincing tones.

"And it tastes like grape juice."

"Why?" Wolfram asked. "If it's shaped like a banana…?"

"And it's hands-free!" Anissina practically crowed.

Yuuri blocked the image in his head of Gwendal being strapped down and forced to use the banana shaped 'rub-your-lips-back-to-normal-color-kun' device in Anissina's lair.

"I would just keep it as a surprise," Yuuri muttered under his breath. He grabbed Wolfram by the hand and took off with him.

* * *

The double black was leading Wolfram away from the stage and, more importantly, from Anissina's talk of more experiments. And, this time, Wolfram's words weren't lost on him at all. He knew. As he tugged Wolfram along, he was hoping to get him somewhere alone to discuss the fox wife a little more. Well, the fox wife would be the start of a conversation that, maybe, they should have had a long time ago. Yuuri acknowledged it. Somewhere in his heart, he knew. They were more than friends—and less than lovers. As he walked, he pondered. What words could he say that wouldn't get a fireball thrown down his shorts? He gave Wolfram a sidelong glance. Nope. Wolfram didn't seem to have that kind of passion in him anymore. If he did, maybe, it would have been easier. But, it wasn't.

"Hungry?" Wolfram asked from behind.

"Eh? Sorry?" Yuuri blinked at him in confusion. But, he told himself that it was just his contacts drying out.

"I asked if you were hungry," Wolfram repeated, much more slowly this time and with a slight edge to his voice.

"Oh, yeah… I guess so."

Wolfram stopped. They were standing near a tree that was decorated with a hundred tiny lanterns and wind bells. The gentle breeze rocked the branches, creating a cascading chiming effect. The lanterns spilled glowing spots of light down below.

"Hold the shopping bag and wait for me here," Wolfram said and Yuuri watched him go. He folded his arms and sighed inwardly at the retreating figure. No matter what clothes the soldier wore, he still walked just like a soldier—marching in a direction that meant something to him. Not all of the old Wolfram had disappeared, at least, and it made him hold on to hope. But, then another thought struck him as he stood under the tree and waited for the return of his fiancé. "This is it," he muttered to himself. "He's going to distract me with food or something and then tell me it's all over." The double black found himself leaning against the tree now. _Do I want that? He shook his head. The truth is, I don't know. And what I really want is more time. But I doubt he will accept that._ Yuuri took a deep breath and held it. _I think I'm only his friend now. He said it before we left—"out with friends," huh? He even recognized that actress as "pretty." He would never have done that in the past._

Wolfram trudged back holding two snacks wrapped up in paper.

"Here," he said, giving the first to Yuuri.

"What is this?"

"Just try it. It's festival food. So, I'm sure you've never seen this at the castle."

Yuuri folded the paper back. He discovered a speckled ball that looked suspiciously like a round blueberry pancake. He sniffed. It smelled like one, too.

"Take a bite. It won't hurt you," Wolfram said with a sarcastic edge while uncovering his snack.

"Well, what do you have?" Yuuri asked, leaning over and eyeing the food.

"I've got a deep fried egg."

"A what?" The double black stared suspiciously at the small, brownish lump.

"Oh, here," Wolfram said, offering Yuuri a taste. He'd already taken a bite out of it. And, what Wolfram couldn't have known was that this would be seen as an "indirect kiss" in Japan. "Taste," he ordered. And, at that, Yuuri took a bite and found it absolutely delicious.

"That is fantastic," he muffled with a hand over his mouth to keep a piece of fried batter from falling.

"Yes," Wolfram said with a nod. "It's a hard boiled egg that's wrapped in ham and cheese—then battered and fried.

"So, what's this?" Yuuri asked, pointing to his food.

"That's a berry cake. It has sticky jam in the center. So, don't eat it so fast."

"Yes, mother," Yuuri teased.

Wolfram rolled his eyes. "I'm just stating the obvious for you."

"I know," Yuuri said and took a bite. Wolfram ate the rest of his food and watched, with more than a little pride, as Yuuri's dark eyes widened.

"Oh, this is really good!" He grinned at Wolfram. "Try this. You've got to!"

Before Wolfram could protest and say that he was very well aware of how great it tasted, Yuuri had broken off a piece and placed the gooey, sugared bite to his lips. Wolfram hesitated. He felt himself blush but ignored it. Gently, he tilted his head, opened, and took the bite into his mouth. He noticed that Yuuri's fingers lingered on his lips a little longer than necessary. Wolfram pondered this and chewed thoughtfully. "It's…good," he said sincerely. He was slightly surprised when Yuuri offered another bite, a bit timidly this time. His eyes softened, but the bite was still there—waiting for him. Wolfram leaned forward, took it, too, and licked his sticky lips, studying the ground for reasons he didn't want to admit.

"About the fox wife thing… I have a question…" Yuuri began and ate a piece with a fat blueberry in it.

"It's just a play. You're right. And that's life," Wolfram said with a shrug.

Yuuri thought about it. "Life…" _Yes, my life._ _And I don't know what I really want to do with it._

Wolfram's expression changed and his eyes became hesitant.

_Here it comes._ Inwardly, Yuuri braced himself.

"You know," Wolfram began and looked at the night sky a little. "Even though we've had wars and strife in our kingdom, and, seriously, it was hard for me to live through, I'd still have to say that my life has been pretty good. I grew up as a prince in a castle. I had a white horse. I became the soldier that I always wanted to be—even if Conrad will always be much better with a sword." He gave a crooked smile at that. Yes, it was true. Then, he turned to Yuuri. "I had a family… you, me, and Greta. A man really should have his own family to care for."

Yuuri held his breath at that. _Had…?_

"Like I said, it was a good life."

_Was?_

"What I'm trying to say is…"

An explosion rocked behind them. The deep vibration rattled through Wolfram's body.

"Yuuri!" Wolfram shouted. His tone was a mixture of love, terror, and determination. And, even though the double black had heard it a thousand times, it never sounded more beautiful than it did at that moment.

The half eaten berry cake fell to the ground.

Wolfram pinned Yuuri to the trunk of the tree—shielding the double black's body with his own and tucking the brown dyed head under his chin. He prayed that there wouldn't be more cannon fire or shrapnel.

"Ummm…Wolfram?" came the muffled voice.

Yuuri pulled away and said, "Look, Wolfram." He pointed over his shoulder. "They're just fireworks."

Slowly, Wolfram turned his head to look at the night sky. He took a quick gasp of breath and put a hand to his chest. His heart was thumping hard inside of it and it hurt. "Sorry," he muttered darkly—embarrassed that he'd make such a foolish mistake. But it was all instinct, really.

In the double black's mind, he could hear Murata say_: "That was the purpose Shinou designed for him: to love you, protect you, and—possibly—die in your place."_

Yuuri looked at Wolfram's profile. _I wonder…if anything you feel for me is real…on your own…of your free will?_

The double black's eyes drifted from the soldier to the flickering brightness.

"Oh, that one's pretty," Wolfram told him, now watching the night sky. There was another thunderous boom followed by a green sparkled splash against the dark firmament. "I think that one looks like a green chrysanthemum. We have those here, you know—the tiny green ones. Gwendal had some planted around his office window last year." Another green glow faded against Wolfram's face. He smiled and turned his head only to realize that he still had Yuuri pinned to the tree and their lips were a hair's breath a part.

"Sorry," he said quietly, but didn't move. His body refused to obey.

A white burst of light from an exploding firecracker lit up from behind Wolfram, giving an angelic glow. And he could see the true Wolfram underneath the wig, contacts, and tunic.

"I'm okay with it," Yuuri murmured, closed his eyes, and leaned in.

Wolfram's lips were soft. And while Yuuri wasn't the greatest or most experienced kisser, he found it all quite natural. They were off to themselves, it was true, and it was dark... They were incognito. But they were still in public, after all. But, none of it mattered. For once in his life, it really didn't. He pressed his lips a little harder. Yuuri could taste the berry cake on Wolfram's mouth and moved his own just enough to taste the grains of sugar on his upper lip. Sweet. That's how it was.

When Wolfram didn't seem to respond, Yuuri pulled back and looked at him.

_Is he…angry?_

Wolfram simply stood there with one slender tear falling from his left eye. Slightly embarrassed, he rubbed it away with the heel of his hand.

"What I wanted most in this world," he said under his breath.

Smiling now, Yuuri pulled Wolfram closer, arms circled around his waist. "I know," he said and leaned in slowly for another kiss. "So, don't cry anymore."

Their lips touched.

_That's right. I've kissed him before. He just doesn't remember it._

"Lord von Bielefeld!" a man shouted from behind. It was the unmistakable shout of a soldier or a guard. Either one was bad considering the fact that they were supposed to be in disguise.

"Lord von Bielefeld!" he called again.

Wolfram took two steps back from his fiancé, straightened up, and turned in the direction of the voice. He made a fist with his left hand and tightened it. The sound of a pair of running feet came upon them and then stopped abruptly.

"And just how did you know that it's me?" Wolfram asked sharply before the other could get a word out.

_Him_, Yuuri thought. _It's that gossiping guard, Jacob. I can just imagine what he's going to say once he gets back to the castle._

"My apologies, Lord von Bielefeld," Jacob said, being somewhat out of breath. "But, I was searching for you and when I heard you calling out…Yuuri Heika's name…in passion..."

Wolfram visibly colored at that. "It was not passion!" he sputtered. "And I always shout like that… And, it's…it's none of your business," he complained to the guard. He wanted to have the man flogged. He really did.

"I am a little curious, though," Yuuri said holding back a bit of embarrassment of his own, "why you would be looking for us." He eyed the man who was still in his castle guard uniform.

_Yes_, Wolfram thought, _why_ _would one of my brother's guards be looking for us here?_

"This is a message for you," he said and offered the red wax sealed envelope with both hands. "A child gave it to me and then ran off. It's addressed to you." He motioned to the name scrawled on top in large, flowing Mazoku script.

"A child gave you this?" Wolfram said, flipping the envelope. "Why?" He walked a few paces to one of the larger lanterns, broke the seal, and held the message to the light. "Oh, no," he breathed.

"_You_!" Wolfram snapped and watched as the man stood at attention. "Act as an escort for his majesty and then go back to the castle." With hesitation, he turned to Yuuri next. "I think you should find Gwendal and stay with him. If we can be discovered so easily by one of our own people—he pointed to Jacob—who knows what kind of danger you could be in?" As he spoke, he crushed the white paper in his other fist.

"Wolfram?" Yuuri said. "What's wrong?"

"Just let me deal with this," Wolfram insisted, giving Yuuri one last smile—but his eyes seemed to be longing for something. Then, he turned and ran through the crowd in the direction of the horses.

The double black stood there. He was trying to wrap his mind around what just happened. On the grass, he noticed the wind nudging something. Somewhere along the line, Wolfram had dropped the paper he was holding.

Yuuri's sharp eyes saw the crumpled lump. He reached down, and picked it up.

"You can leave," Yuuri said distractedly.

"But, Majesty! Lord von Bielefeld said…" Jacob mumbled, wearing a worried face. A small group of rowdy teenagers walked by—joking and shoving each other playfully. His eyes turned to them as though they were a threat.

"Seriously, I'll be fine," Yuuri continued with a fake laugh.

Holding Wolfram's letter to the light of the same lamp, it read:

_Lord __von Bielefeld:_

_We challenge you, as a matter of personal honor, to come to the place where you last met your failure against the painted arrow. We await you, within the hour, to duel a member of our group. In the event that you do not appear, we will assume that you are a coward and your family name will be stained for generations to come. No place will be safe for you or Yuuri Heika—who will be the first to meet his end as penalty for your failure to stand up and meet a man to man challenge of your honor. In essence, his death will be on your bloody hands._

"Wolfram, no!" Yuuri shouted in frustration, now forcing himself to run toward the place where the horses were kept.

The king pumped his arms hard as he ran through the crowds—who stopped and stared—leaving a very unhappy Jacob behind. He raised a hand and opened his mouth to speak, but the double black was long gone.

He ran.

With each step, time seemed to slow down.

A breath.

_This is a dare._

_How could you be so stupid?_

His foot slammed into the earth.

_Why didn't you tell me? I'm not a child._

Exhale.

_You're only going because they threatened the two things you love most of all: your honor and my life._

Yuuri was nearing the tents. He saw one of the stable hands holding some clothes and looking totally confused. The clothes were Wolfram's—the blue tunic top and the brown wig. Yuuri shoved the shopping bag with the wind bells in it at the man and took off around the corner for his horse.

The sound of horse hooves galloping almost stopped him in his tracks. But he pushed on, hoping to get to his stallion in time.

"Get on, Shibuya!"

Startled, Yuuri looked up. "Murata?" He cocked his head to one side.

"We don't have much time! Hurry!"

With that, Yuuri climbed on behind Murata and felt the horse lurch forward, picking up speed as they went.

Yuuri held on around his waist. "But, Murata…How did you…?"

Murata turned with a sheepish laugh. "Well, let's just say that I know these things thanks to Shinou." The horse almost lost his footing on some loose pebbles, but caught himself and continued to speed down the dirt road. "I know, Shibuya, that you might end up hating me for interfering, but I had to be here to help."

"No…I'm…I'm glad," Yuuri said and a glimmer of hope came to him. "We have to go back to that fork in the road where Wolfram was hit with the arrow. That's where they're planning to…" The double black couldn't finish his thought because saying it would make it all too real.

"I understand." They rode on, riding recklessly in the thick night air. What Murata didn't tell Yuuri was that he was more than just a little far sighted. He was night blind as well. Using the dark, long rows of trees lining the road as guides, Murata guessed where the road actually was and continued to squint hard as they went along. Then, Murata turned back to him again. "That's strange," he said and the horse slowed down, took a left, and galloped down a new road by starlight.

"What?"

"Don't you hear it?" He turned his head again slightly to look at Yuuri.

"Hear what?"

"I keep thinking that I hear a bell or something."

It was true.

_Tink. Tink. Tink._

"Wha-?" Yuuri's memory flashed back to the bracelet that Wolfram was wearing around his left wrist. _He must still be wearing it!_ Yuuri took a nervous breath. Yes, it was there. It was faint, but _there_ nonetheless. As long as the bell was ringing, Yuuri knew that Wolfram was alive. And, for now, that was the only comfort in his heart.

* * *


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Conrad watched the men from his hiding place further back along the road. The group of five seemed to be preparing themselves for a battle. He recognized the restless pacing that was typical before combat. Weapons were at the ready.

Conrad felt sick inside. This was not what he wanted to see.

These people.

This place.

_Not good_, he thought and unconsciously placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. By the look of the assassins, and how restless they were, it seemed fairly certain in his mind, at least, what was to follow.

As tired as he was from his ride, the soldier felt awake—very wide awake—and could feel his adrenaline pumping.

He glanced at the men again.

_Soon. It will be soon._

Conrad walked back to where his horse was waiting for him. He'd scouted out the surroundings. He learned what he needed to know in the short term, at least. With the lanterns that they had set up, it was easy enough to follow their movements even at this distance. So, for now, he would make his way quietly to a more suitable, and strategically more viable, location and wait. Whoever it was that they were planning to ambush would have a little company on his side. Conrad hoped that he would be in a position to help if he could avoid the arrows. _Painted arrows…_ Conrad felt his face harden at the thought of the Boss with the quiver. And, for the first time in a long time, he missed his battle armor.

Even though it was dark, and the brown haired man could barely make out his hand in front of his face, he decided that he needed to send a messenger bird now and inform Gwendal. He had scratched out a message before it became too dark. But he had chosen to hold off-- just in case something else came to the forefront. Now, there really was no alternative. If help could arrive in time, which he doubted, it would be a blessing. If it couldn't, then the message would become the official record until he could get back to the castle. Whether or not he would be bringing with him the person the assassins wanted, he didn't know. But he hoped he would.

The soldier pictured in his mind all of the people he loved and released the messenger pigeon. And it winged its way into the sky.

* * *

Wrestling to keep a sour look off of his beautiful face, Günter strode in the direction of Gwendal's study with a handful of letters he'd just finished reading. On each one, there was a note attached which read, "Burn before Little Lord Brat sees this." He really should have left the letters for the administrator earlier, but didn't get around to it. Günter stopped in front of the door, opened it, and then entered before letting loose a horrendous "ACHOO!"

A deeply impatient sigh.

_Sniff._

With no little delicacy, he smacked the stack down, took out a pink lace-edged handkerchief and put it to his drippy nose. He'd started coming down with a cold that morning and told himself he'd be better by the opening ceremonies of the festival that night. Of course, he wasn't. He had a bad headache, too, which was not compatible with a festival dedicated to clinking, clanking wind bells. So, his daughter told him to stay in bed—which he easily ignored because he had too much to do in the service of his beloved maou. But, now that he was sneezing harder, he'd begun to wonder if Gisela had been right after all. Maybe a good cup of tea, a few snacks, and a good book would be a much better way to spend an evening when feeling unwell. Günter gave his nose a particularly blubbery blow into the handkerchief. Then, he pocketed it thinking "At least, that is done…" Günter eyed the pile on Gwendal's desk with distain at the thought of an angry Wolfram holding the letters in the palm of his hand. He also imagined them igniting, causing smoke damage to Gwendal's freshly painted office. Then, feeling sorry for himself, Günter tapped the edge of his aching nose with an index finger and grumbled "…and a colossal waste of time it was too…couldn't even spell 'infatuated' right…" followed by another "ACHOO!" He pulled out the snot-stiffened hankie again.

Günter had finished his embarrassingly loud, frustrated "elephant call" when he thought he heard something scratch at the window. Curious, he opened it to find a messenger bird. It flew lightly to his hand and Günter smiled at it in all of his bright red nosed glory.

"Like me, you are very dedicated." After delivering the much deserved words of praise, in Günter's opinion at least, he smiled a little at the lovely white bird that blinked back with deep, brownish-black eyes. From the bird's point of view, the lilac haired administrator had just said "blah-blah-blah-blah-blah-blah…"

"Oh, yes…the message." He took it and the bird flew off.

Günter rubbed his nose against the handkerchief again absentmindedly as his eyes scanned the paper. It was written in Conrad's handwriting and it might be something that Gwendal would need to see right away. Having the full authority to read it, which was another thing Günter took great pride in, he scanned the report.

"Oh…dear." He honked his nose now. Turning quickly, a little too quickly actually and finding himself doing a drunken pirouette, the advisor fled the room leaving behind, on Gwendal's desk, the handfull of anonymous love letters addressed to Yuuri that had arrived in the mail for him.

* * *

With his cape characteristically draped over one shoulder, Shinou walked down the hall and easily avoided a shrine maiden guard who was on patrol. She sported an outfit that said "Don't even think of getting by me" that had a particularly nasty spear to match. His blue eyes shined at her even though he really needed to go on his way. Nonetheless, Shinou did linger for a minute to watch her little heart shaped derriere jiggle as it went down a flight of stairs. Briefly, he thought about giving her the honor of being possessed by him and to have her come on to the Great Sage in his own bedroom—just to see how he'd react, of course. What she'd do with the spear alone would make great sport. Then, with a self-satisfied grin, he tucked that thought away in his mind for another time.

With a sudden jerk of his head, Shinou stared into the nothingness of the wall to his left.

"So…you're back…" Shinou practically growled the words in an undertone. "Then, this is going to be fun, too." Sporting a devilish grin, he felt his spirit jump through the wall and then it fell—like falling from a high window—directly into the penumbra.

Sifting through the ebony seas, he felt the presence. It didn't surprise him this time. What had surprised him was that he hadn't felt it sooner. Most likely, they weren't there at the exact same moment. Or, possibly, they both weren't in as deeply at the same time—not many oracle wielders could journey in this far without getting lost. Either way, though, he now knew without a doubt that he wasn't alone and the muddy reddish aura was identifiable.

And it felt good to be right.

Once again, Marelda's body was freefalling through the penumbra with her brown streaked hair blowing away from her—making her features sharper than they would have been. Three sparkles appeared at a distance and she smiled with a self-satisfied feeling that things were going to improve very quickly.

"The tiles are back," Marelda said in a girlish tone.

She reached out her hands to touch them and they obeyed. "Past…present…future…" The three tiles came and hovered to her right, center, and left. With relief, she noticed that there were only three tiles and they were all shining brightly as they should be. So, nothing had changed.

"Now, let's see the past." She took the tile in her hands and held the shining surface up to her face. The sounds and moving pictures came to her. She saw what looked like an actress on a theatre stage put on a cape and a fox mask. The image blurred for a second and then came back to life. Slightly muffled by the mask, the young Mazoku was sobbing in pathetic tones. Then, she jumped off the stage and ran through the audience for parts unknown.

"I have no idea what that is…but it happens sometimes…" Marelda complained to herself. Yes, there were times when the visions just didn't work out for her because she wasn't there. Then, the tile's surface clouded over. The image blurred again and there was the pleasing sight of a panic stricken, brown-haired Yuuri running through the crowd.

"Could that really be…?" she mumbled. She closed her eyes and focused harder on the tile.

Yuuri's face filled the surface. The young boy king was yelling "Wolfram, no!" Marelda chuckled deliciously at that while releasing the tile in her hands. Yes, it was the king after all.

_Good!_

Feeling her ego stroked just a little, she reached out for the tile directly in front of her. "Now, for the present…"

The tile began to respond to her voice just as a strong, male presence materialized directly behind her.

"I think you've seen enough, my lady."

Marelda's head whipped around in fear. She tried to stifle a pathetic little cry by putting her hand to her mouth. But it didn't work. He heard it and chuckled darkly.

"Who…?" The woman shook her head. Quickly, she turned her whole body toward the presence behind her. She could feel it—almost touch it with her senses. "W-Who are you?" she asked and immediately imagined a circle of green light to protect her. The green hoop, embedded with ribbons of gold light, rotated very slowly with a deep hum.

Shinou laughed at her but kept back far enough to stay unseen. Obviously, she had never met with anyone while inside the penumbra before—unlike his visits with spirits who stubbornly refused to move on to Paradise and The Great Sage who had his own stubborn qualities as well. And that, in Shinou's marginally humble opinion, was a good thing for the moment.

"What do you want?" she asked again, her voice becoming stronger.

_The little bitch really thinks that green hoop is going to protect her. What an idiot._

"As I've already said," Shinou cooed in her direction, "I think you've seen enough."

"I…thought I was…" she stammered.

"Alone?" He laughed at her with a hearty tone. "Nonsense…many are here. And I would suggest that you remember that…" Then, his eyes turned to a steely blue. "What I want to know is why you're bending events to your will…"

Marelda stared into the darkness. She could just make out a male outline. She could almost see a profile. But she wasn't sure if this was an accident or if the owner of the profile was just allowing that much to be seen. Without knowing for sure, Marelda decided to dance around the issue.

"What I do is my own affair…"

"True…very true…" His voice was honey now. "But I don't like what you're doing. And I don't like who you're doing it to." And, with that, he broke through the circle, maneuvered his body behind Marelda's, and grabbed her around the waist. Before she knew it, he had one arm around her middle and the other around her neck—pulling her chin up at an uncomfortable angle.

"S…stop!" she ordered with teeth clinched. Even when at a disadvantage, she was issuing orders. Shinou loved that in a woman. It was just the other qualities that this one had that pissed him off.

"Stop? I think that should be my line," he whispered in her ear.

'Who are you?" She gritted out the words, not giving him the satisfaction of feeling her struggle.

"If you hurt Yuuri Heika or Wolfram, I will be your worst nightmare."

"Yuuri? Wolf…?" Then, Marelda did something unexpected. She laughed. "Oh, so you're either a guardian spirit of some sort or another oracle wielder like me." He could feel her body tense up, but no matter. "And that also means you're the one who kept changing my plans. I should have realized that the futures that never came to pass were because of you. Someone was tinkering with my work."

_Actually, a couple of "someones,"_ Shinou thought sourly—remembering the talk he had with The Great Sage.

Marelda continued, "Then, let me tell you that everything is in motion. You can't help him."

Now, it was Shinou's turn to laugh. "While you were looking at the past, some sort of stupid ritual I suppose, I caught a glimpse of that 'present' tile that's now in your hands. Not to mention the fact that the 'future' one confirmed everything I suspected."

"The present? Future?" Her eyes widened.

"You revel too much, my lady…thinking you have all the time in the world. And it will slowly turn you into something ugly." He tightened his grip. Shinou was cheek to cheek with her profile. "Do you really want to be an ugly girl?"

At the mention of the "present" tile, Marelda let it fall noiselessly into the infinite darkness below from her hands which had become black claws. Maybe, there was more to see than the brief image of Wolfram on his white horse riding through the night. Maybe not. But, she refused to play his little game.

"Stop patronizing me," she said with an edge.

"And I know what you are planning." The blond placed his lips closely to Marelda's ear. He could feel her tremble when he did it. Yes, she was much more afraid and uncertain than she was letting on. He liked that. "Do you know the basic rules of nature and the natural order of things? I'll tell you. They're very simple. Even a child can understand. For example, as you have already learned, for a powerful oracle wielder, it is possible to "nudge" events in a certain direction. Say the right thing here, miss a meeting there…meet someone at the right time… All possible."

Shinou nuzzled her cheek. She stiffened.

"However…It is impossible to repeat the exact details of any event in its totality. This also applies to "non-events"—things that never happened but could have. In other words, my dear, you cannot repeat a non-event, either. What's passed has passed. So, when you muck about with shifts in time and natural order, you must accept the fact that once that moment has passed, it has passed forever. In this present time period, you cannot set the stage to recreate that "never happened moment"—which is something you're trying to do now."

There was a gasp.

Shinou smirked. He was correct.

"We both know now that instead of ordering Wolfram to be _killed_, you should have ordered him to be _captured_. Torturing him would be so much easier and satisfying for you considering your previous experiences with the ruling figures of Shin Makoku."

His eyes took on a mischievous sheen. Yes, he'd been eavesdropping on Günter's mutterings and research in the library. He was well versed on Marelda's activities now.

Shinou continued with "And, then, you could have killed Wolfram at your leisure…under your own conditions." He chuckled again. "So, right now, Wolfram is trying to meet your little band of assassins for an honorable 'man to man' duel at the fork in the road—a place where the lines of magic join and you, the oracle wielder that you are, can see everything clearly."

"So?"

"So, it's basically the same scenario. It didn't work last time because you planned badly, chose unwisely, and lost your chance. And, happily, I will admit that I played my part, too, in changing the outcome. But, my dear, time has moved on. And, this scenario will only be met with moderate success, now, because the conditions are not the same." He kissed her cheek and she cringed. "Too many people know, my dear, and will help…"

"My men are experts. And I've equipped them."

"Yes, experts at killing…which requires very little intelligence. But you don't want Wolfram dead…well, not right away at least because that won't serve your purposes." He pressed a smirk to her cheek and said, "Are you sure you can trust them with the task of capturing without killing?"

Her head jerked in Shinou's direction. She really wanted to see who she was talking to—who was demanding answers from her.

"As I said in the beginning," Shinou now growled lowly in her ear with his true voice, "if you harm Yuuri Heika or Wolfram…a single drop of blood…and I will be your worst nightmare. I will haunt your every dreaming moment until you end your own miserable life."

And, with that, Marelda lost her concentration and found herself collapsed on her bedroom rug.

* * *

Conrad heard the faint sound of hooves on the dirt road. Obviously, the horse in question was at a high gallop. The brown haired soldier tightened his fist at his side. He knew that he would soon be joining someone in battle against the five humans. Surely, they could take on five people. But, he didn't like the odds of five to two—especially when one of them had painted arrows. And a battle of any kind at night, in dim lantern light, had disadvantages.

The grubby men heard the approaching horse as well and steeled themselves.

Conrad got on his horse.

_This is it._

The galloping was louder and the men fanned themselves out—taking to the shelter of the trees. The elder, with a sword in hand, stood in the middle of the road. It was decided that he would be the spokesman for this little charade. After all, he was the best liar.

A figure appeared. Conrad strained to see from where he was hiding. Would it be possible to fight the way he needed to while protecting someone else's life?

A white horse.

A blond man with a slim build, white shirt, and blue breeches jumped down.

Wolfram.

Conrad's eyes widened. _Wolfram! How can you be here?! _

The soldier forced air into his lungs. He had to breathe. He had to stay alert. This couldn't be happening, but it was. His baby brother… _It can't…It just can't…_ Hadn't this been the hellish scene he'd witnessed in his dreams since Wolfram was shot with the arrow? Conrad wasn't there the moment Wolfram was injured, which he regretted and tortured himself over privately, but the other soldiers had told him the story over and over until he knew it so well he could see it in his mind's eye. Yes, the witness accounts had become his eyes and ears of that agonizing moment.

Now, he was seeing it all over again on his own.

Conrad shook his head "no" violently and squeezed his brown eyes shut. When he opened them, it was no better. In the shadow of one of the oak trees, he could make out movement. It was the boss. He pulled an arrow back against the string. The bow string stretched.

It was aimed at Wolfram.

No, not Wolfram…

For Conrad, this moment slowed to a halt. His eyes caught it—more movement. He saw another horse, a dark brown one, approach and stop abruptly. Two figures jumped off and ran to Wolfram's side, breathing heavily.

_Yuuri…and The Great Sage!_

* * *


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

"Yuuri!? Why didn't you stay back there?" Wolfram hissed angrily under his breath. His emerald eyes were glued to the face that he loved so well. _You were safe at the festival with my brother! How could you risk yourself like this?_

"Oh….uh…don't forget about me," Murata chimed in, intentionally standing a few paces behind Yuuri so that the blond's full anger could be directed at him first. The sage was now rewarded with a glare that could melt solid rock.

"Leave this place," Wolfram hissed again. He was scanning the darkness for movement out of the corner of his eye. Instinct told him that they were not alone. And logic dictated it. One man probably did not bring this many lanterns to this place to light up the road. And, from looking at the way that the elder was grinning at them with brownish teeth, his fears were confirmed.

"We're in this together," Yuuri stated flatly.

"Even though violence really isn't our style," Murata added, which wasn't helpful in the least. Now, he got a glare from Yuuri. Dark eyes narrowed into overly wide and falsely innocent ones.

"What are you doing?" Yuuri said in an undertone.

"Buying time."

"I don't think that's going to help," Yuuri complained.

Murata briefly glanced at the waxing moon and the position of the stars. "You'd be surprised."

"So, is this what you'd call a 'noble' man to man duel?" the elder complained in a voice dripping with honey while tightening the grip on his new sword.

"Well, since I'm a _noble_ and you're not…" Wolfram said in an arrogant tone, flipping his blond locks back. He did his best to come across as nonchalant, too, by forcing his posture to look relaxed. He needed to distract the oaf while he analyzed the situation. Wolfram eyed the enemy's sword carefully. Even in the shifting lamplight, he could see the details quite clearly. It had a leaf shaped hammered steel blade with a ten centimeter cross guard. The handle was ebony, he guessed, because it blended nicely into the background. The leather scabbard was at his side. _Too nice and too new for this guy._ Something was up.

Another thing bothered Wolfram, too. Unlike Yuuri, when he practiced with Morgif, the elder held his sword like he meant business. His stance alone commanded respect even if the rest of him looked shabby and unkept. And, when the wind blew in the right direction, Wolfram could smell him—a pungent mixture of grime, sweat, and alcohol. _Booze? _Had this guy been drinking? It could make some of his movements unpredictable but, maybe, slower than usual.

"Any honorable duel allows seconds to attend," Wolfram continued, drawing his own sword out smoothly with a slick, metallic sound. "Surely, you didn't mean that I couldn't bring them."

The blond felt his heart beating hard. Of course, they wanted him to come alone. And foolishly, he'd done it because he prided himself on being an excellent swordsman who was far better than any stinking human or humans, for that matter. And, deep down, he wanted another shot at them. But, now that he was in this situation, Wolfram wanted nothing more than to have all three of them escape. The blond didn't need to debate whether or not Yuuri was worth more than his honor, his code of ethics, and his dignity. Yes, he was. The wimp was his life. They could call Wolfram a coward until the day they planted him into the earth, but he would always put Yuuri's wellbeing ahead of his own. Silently, he prayed that his dead forefathers would understand this decision. It was selfish. He knew it. But he'd been called "selfish" his whole life. The ancestors could curse his name and abandon his spirit after death for all he cared because, in this moment, Yuuri was everything to him.

Wolfram tightened his grip around his sword and began tracing steps in his mind for a safe retreat. All he needed was for everyone to be in the right place at the right time.

_I know this looks like cowardice, but…_ He shook his head at that. It wasn't. His heart was bound to Yuuri. There was nothing else to call it.

"No, you were to come alone," the elder said, grinning with a full set of darkish teeth. "But, now that they're here…and I believe that's the maou with you… _Pretty boy_, that maou…" He raised his sword up in a motion that spoke of victory.

The blond's eyes widened. It was a signal. _Oh, hell!_

"WOLFRAM, GET THEM OUT OF HERE!" Conrad shouted from somewhere behind the elder. There was the sound of hooves on dirt and a sword making a slicing noise in the air only to be met with another piece of sharp steel.

"Conrad?!" Yuuri and Wolfram cried together as the elder ran off. His dark green, shabby clothing made excellent camouflage—blending in with the background perfectly.

Chaos. Horses whinnied and reared. Some of the men in the trees were screaming over each other's orders, their tones edged with fear. An unknown voice shouted "Die!"

"On the horse, now!" Wolfram ordered.

"Not without you!" Yuuri countered.

"You don't have to tell me twice," Murata muttered sheepishly. He got on.

The double black stood before Wolfram—refusing to budge. "We're together, remember?" There was something in Yuuri's eyes that spoke of the way they were wrapped around each other before the message from Jacob arrived. "You do want that, don't you?"

In the darkness, Wolfram's ears picked up the sound of Conrad shouting, "You over there! Drop that sword or….!"

Green eyes narrowed in Yuuri's direction. Almost roughly, he gripped his fiancé's arm and dragged him four strides to the side of the horse. "That was low, Yuuri, and unbecoming." Wolfram took hold of Yuuri's shoulders, faced the maou towards the horse, and yelled "Murata, give him a hand up."

Murata extended a hand just as the first arrow flew at them.

"Get on!" And with one shove to the butt, Yuuri was on the back of the horse, absolutely smoldering with fury.

Another arrow flew, almost striking the horse this time.

The brown steed reared up, terrified of the projectile. Murata had to work hard to steady the beast before they fell off. Yuuri gripped on.

One of the things that Conrad had taught Wolfram early on in cadet training was that the arrow always betrayed (pointed at) the person who fired it. Looking at the angle of the shafts in the earth, Wolfram had a pretty good guess about the general location of the archer. The blond placed two fingers up to his temple and said, "All the beings that make up the element of fire, obey this brave Mazoku who summons you!" He made a sweeping motion with ribbons of flame following his hands, casting off vicious sparks. Then, he placed his two hands parallel. A red ball of fire appeared between them. He smoothed over the flames into a single orb, gave it a spin, and launched it—lighting up the night as it burned a molten stream of radiant fire into the trees.

Breathing hard now as though he'd been running, the blond looked up irritably. "I said, 'GO'! Now, do it!"

"What about Conrad?!" Yuuri shouted down. Reality had sunk in now, and he was at the point of breaking.

Wolfram bit his lip. Yuuri was truly no soldier. And there was no place for him here.

"Wimp, Conrad is the best there is. His reflexes are better than mine!"

The double black's eyes widened at that. Wolfram had complemented Conrad without a shred of sibling jealousy or resentment—only acknowledging the simple fact that he was the better soldier. Something cold ran through him.

A third arrow landed in the dirt by Wolfram's left boot. He jerked back and studied the angle of the shaft again.

_Damn! I missed him with the fireball. But he's still in the same place as before... _

"Wolfram!" Yuuri wailed. "Those are painted arrows! You have to come, too!"

"Go!" the blond shouted as he put up a wall of flame nine feet high. He needed a barrier between them and the men. It would delay things, but it also drained magic. There would be no way he could summon a fire lion now. He'd have to stay with smaller fireballs.

"Not without you and Conrad!" Yuuri's eyes were shut tight. He cringed deeply at the thought of losing either one.

Another arrow pierced the wall and almost struck them. The soldier's body instinctively told him to find shelter—hide and ride this thing out until an opportunity to counter opened up. But, the trainer and analyst in Wolfram blinked back in shock. This wasn't supposed to happen with his fire magic. "It didn't even catch on fire. It was as though the wall made a hole for it to pass through."

Murata said his thoughts out loud, pushing his glasses up on his nose a little. "What it means is that the magic that the arrows have makes them impervious to fire." Then, his dark eyes caught the fear in Yuuri's face. So, he added quickly, "But, of course, once an archer fires the arrow, he's defenseless until he can ready another one."

Wolfram looked up to Yuuri on the horse. "Then, my fire cannot protect you…" _Or me…_ The blond forced air into his lungs. His heart was hardening. His soldier training and instincts were taking over. _Then, I can't let you watch what will happen next._

"Back to the castle!"

"No!" Yuuri was panicking. He could feel tears pricking at the corners of his onyx eyes. He was going to get off now. They would be together and share the same fate.

The blond looked up at him sincerely, smoke and flame filling the background behind him. "If I ever meant anything to you…"

"Now, who's… playing dirty…?" Yuuri used all of his willpower to hold back a sob.

"I am…" With regret, Wolfram smacked the horse on the rear and it bolted. Yuuri whipped his head behind him only to see that the wall of flame had opened a small corridor wide enough for Wolfram to enter with his sword drawn. Then, the flames melded into a single wall.

Now, it was there, Yuuri knew, to keep him out.

The air sliced. Another arrow struck the dirt behind them. The rainbow arrowhead was buried deep into the ground. The shaft and fletchings stood out against the fiery backdrop.

"An arrow?" Yuuri said shakily. "That means…Wolfram wasn't the target this time. I was…"

"My second guess," Murata said in an undertone. "It's always been easier to kill than capture. Hostages are too much work."

"Wait! They won't take hostages? What about Conrad? Wolfram?"

Murata's memory flashed to the penumbra and Shinou. He could see himself looking into the water-mirror. "My guess is that they want Wolfram. But, what they'll do to him…once they have him… Beyond all that…I mean…" Murata didn't want to finish. Yuuri wasn't strong enough for it.

"What will they do to him?" the double black demanded, leaning over Murata's shoulder to get a better look at his face.

Murata's answer was a shake of the head. He couldn't tell what he saw in the water-mirror. And, even if he did, he had no proof that it would come to pass like that.

"Turn the horse around," Yuuri ordered.

"Not a good idea," Murata mumbled. He was still struggling with the frightened animal. It reared again. Yuuri grasped his friend around the waist and held on. "Stop!" he shouted and, after a few more steps, Murata managed to get things under control. Reluctantly, he obeyed and turned the horse to face the flames.

From behind the blazing wall, someone shouted in anger. It sounded like Conrad.

The sage could feel the weight of the double black leaning weakly against his back—warm tears and sobs, that weren't Murata's, coming to him. He remembered. In all of his past lives, probably the worst thing he had to accept was losing the people who mattered. It was that sad little promise of "tomorrow will be better," which never comes. Holding onto hope, but letting go of that person one finger at a time. The final abandonment when you cradle their body in your arms and beg them not to leave you.

Making a deal with God for one more day. But God doesn't make deals. And fate is cruel.

_Alone. I always end up alone, no matter how many lives I lead._

Murata saw the fires and watched them grow. Some of the surrounding trees were on fire now, curling black and falling to bits in flaming rain. He could hear men grunting and shouting orders. Steel clashing against steel. Murata could feel his memory flashing back to a fire he'd seen in a past life as the Original Sage. People died then, too. But he had Shinou to cling to when they were alone in the tent that night. The king wrapped him up in his arms and kept the nightmares away. There was no one to do that now.

_Alone again._

Murata could feel Yuuri's hand on his shoulder—the double black's grip shaking hard. "C-Conrad, don't leave me," he sobbed under his breath. "I can't do this on my own."

There was nothing Murata could say to comfort him, but he wanted to. He truly did.

There was a sudden explosion of fire raging up like a volcano on the other side of the wall of flame.

Another scream.

Shocked, both Murata and Yuuri's faces shined with a sickening yellow-orange light.

"Wolfram…?" the double black sobbed. "It can't be…won't allow it… Not when I realize…now that I know… We have our whole lives together…" Then, he shut his onyx eyes, tilting his head to the sky with tears sliding back. "WOLFRAM!" Yuuri shouted into the endless night. His voice echoed, but no one called out to him.

* * *

"Lord von Christ, did you hear that?!" Gerard said, turning to the man next to him. Dressed in his dark blue uniform with the braids and regalia that signified him as a member of Wolfram's elite private guard, the man with strawberry blond hair and strong, noble features turned to the king's advisor who gave him a nod.

Both handsome men led the way with a troop of twelve volunteer soldiers from the castle who insisted that they be given the honor to assist in the rescue of their commander and idol, Conrad Weller.

"I did indeed," Günter said in a tone uncharacteristically serious. "This way!" he said over his shoulder to the troops behind them. They took off at a gallop.

Gerard's horse easily kept up with Günter's as they raced on through the night. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see flashes of the advisor's white cape billowing with a ghostly wave. But the soldier's mind kept racing back to the voice he heard in the darkness. He cringed at the thought of it. It was the voice of Yuuri Heika and he sounded panicked. He was calling out in agony for Wolfram. And there were very few situations where he'd do that.

For Gerard, it was now more than Conrad Weller. It was more than Yuuri Heika. It was Wolfram. And he swore his life and loyalty to him long ago. Tonight, he would fulfill his vow.

The road curved and the soldier could hear Günter curse worriedly under his breath followed by a loud declaration of: "That means we have more than one person to rescue. Please wait for us! We are coming, Heika." He blew his nose hard into the hankie—which worried the soldiers around him. They thought he'd given up hope.

* * *

The beautiful sound of horse hooves galloping behind them reached Murata's ears. They came. They really did. So, Shinou wasn't lying after all. All he needed to do was stall for time as much as he could without endangering Yuuri or Wolfram. As usual, keeping them talking—or, rather, "arguing"—did the trick. Somewhere in his heart, he thought he could forgive Shinou a little for the past wrongs he'd done him—including that whole "in the shrine maiden's toilet" fiasco.

"Yuuri Heika!" Günter shouted, long before he was near his king.

The double black turned his tear-stained face towards his royal advisor. His eyes were distant, vague. He was shaking hard now, arms folded across his chest with stubby nails digging in. "Of all times, why can't I become the maou right now?" he whispered to himself. "Why?"

"Y-u-u-r-i Heika!" Günter called again—stretching out the syllables dramatically as his horse slowed to a halt.

"Heika!" Gerard called, too.

Yuuri blinked hard at the soldier, bringing his vision back. The double black focused on Gerard but his mind filtered out the rest of the men behind him. Yes, this was a member of Wolfram's private guard. _Why do I feel…?_ His heart tightened in his chest at the sight. Yes, some jealous part of his soul, he finally acknowledged, knew that this man fancied Wolfram. All of the men in Wolfram's private guard secretly did—or so reputation had it. Truthfully, he'd seen the looks himself, especially with this particular soldier. The man's grey eyes held a desire that, not too long ago, Yuuri didn't want to acknowledge and didn't care about. But, regardless, Wolfram stayed by a certain "wimp's side" anyway.

_Now, I know how Wolfram feels. It hurts. It really does. But, right now, I can't think about that. And if this man can help me get Wolfram back, I'll gladly owe him._

Yuuri jumped down from Murata's horse. "Wolfram and Conrad are behind that wall," he said loudly enough for the soldiers to hear. He pointed a finger to the wall of fire that was still burning. "And we are going to rescue them!" His tone was commanding and in control, almost reflecting his maou voice.

The sudden decisiveness and drive made Günter inspired. "Yes, Heika! He clasped his hands together almost in prayer.

"Heika, may I ask…?" Gerard's voice trailed off. He was more than eager to get started, but needed to know something.

Yuuri cocked a stern, black eyebrow at him.

"I'm a fire wielder, like my lord and commander. So, I need to know…" He took a quick breath before asking, but he knew from the pattern of the fire his answer already. "Who created the wall?" Gerard asked pointing a finger at it.

"Wolfram."

Then Gerard broke out into a smile.

Yuuri watched the noble features spread out into a beautiful grin that would win any girl over at first sight. Handsome. Mature, broad shouldered, and handsome…and a fire wielder just like Wolfram…his Wolfram. But, in his heart, the smile made Yuuri want to seethe with rage. He could feel his energy building inside and the desire to suddenly lash out.

"And what's so great about it?" Yuuri said, his voice lowering. His stance, suddenly imposing.

Knowing the hidden power of their maou, the soldiers behind Gerard cowered, Günter was speechless, and Murata grinned knowingly on the back of the horse.

"Well…umm…Yuuri Heika," Gerard stammered, not understanding everything. How did he just insult his king in this time of crisis? "If the wall is there, it means he's still alive and fighting."

"What?" Yuuri suddenly forgot his anger.

"Shibuya," Murata said, pushing his glasses up on his nose a little. "I think it's time to kick some butt."

The soldiers cheered at that and Yuuri climbed back on behind Murata.

"We go!" Yuuri shouted to the men behind them.

With the soldiers' swords raised up high, they galloped toward the wall of flame—shouting battle cries as they approached.

* * *


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Yozak struggled against his bonds. He was still leaning against the grimy wall, much as he had been when he was out cold. But he was wide awake now and moving his wrists slowly, gingerly behind his back—looking for any weakness in the rope's knot.

There was a sudden noise to his right, as though something made of metal had been shifted around. Yozak stopped. His eyelids slid shut and he pretended to be sleeping. After a scurrying sound reached his ears, Yozak thought wearily, _just another mouse_. He'd seen two in the past half hour, playing tag among the support beams in the ceiling. The orange haired man sighed to himself and went back to quietly testing the rope. The first thing he planned to do when he got free was pull the gag out of his mouth. The rag was still revolting in both taste and smell. But he doubted that throwing up would help his situation any. So, he forced himself to think of something more pleasant each time he felt a wave of nausea hit him.

"Your turn."

A brunette eyebrow raised up as he regarded his cards. "Hmmm… Decisions, decisions…" Conrad murmured and took a sip from his mug on the table. It was a beautiful day in the local village and the tavern had a nice table set up just outside the front door. The soldier, still in his uniform, could hear a chuckle from his partner. He looked at the usually "orange" haired spy who was, today, wearing a long platinum wig tied back into a ponytail with a bow, a lady's pink dress, and a white parasol to keep the sun off.

"So, after this game, you're going back to the castle?" Conrad asked and took a card from the pile.

"Can't keep me away from there. I need a meal, a bath, and a change of clothes. Then, I'll be off again. I've got a few good leads. I think I'll try the taverns next in search of…," he stopped and glanced around. The streets were empty. "Well, to _make sure_, anyway," he said in a more womanly voice this time. Yozak winked girlishly and took a card from the top of the deck in demure fashion.

"I can buy you a meal," Conrad said, not taking his eyes from his cards. His smile was the usual pleasant one and, unfortunately, totally unreadable when they played cards together.

"Well, there's a slight problem with that," Yozak grumbled and pointed to the quickly disappearing pile of snacks on the table.

A little blond boy with emerald green eyes wearing a blue uniform and carrying a wooden sword was looking up at them. His cheeks were stuffed full of crackers. The child munched slowly with large, owlish eyes.

"Wolfram," Conrad admonished, "I don't want you to cram all of the snacks into your mouth at the same time." He put down the cards to inspect his little brother's face with a slight frown.

"Little Lord Brat," Yozak growled and rolled his eyes. He put his elbow on the table and leaned his cheek into his palm. Truth be told, he couldn't wait for Wolfram to grow up to his normal size again. The older "brat" may have been louder, but he also liked to follow Yuuri around like a shadow. Young Wolfram preferred Conrad.

Two middle aged Mazoku women with lemon yellow hair and floral aprons strolled by with their shopping baskets. The first one said loudly, "That father is okay, but did you hear what that horrible mother just said to that adorable blond baby of hers?" The other nodded. "That awful hulking woman called her beautiful child 'Little Lord Brat!' All he did was eat!"

Both glared angrily at Yozak as they walked on.

"Some women have no maternal instinct."

"Terrible!"

"Shameful."

_Crunch. Crunch. Crunch._

"What?" Wolfram mumbled and then grinned at Yozak with mushed-up orange cracker covered teeth.

Conrad laughed and got a scathing look from the spy.

"This is funny," the soldier said, moving his gaze from his little brother to the "woman" in front of him.

"Why?" A frown followed.

"They think we're married."

Yozak bit into his gag a little harder. It was a good memory after all. It was a good moment to hold on to. He would do that—grip on to that point in time and play it over in his mind as often as necessary until he knew that he could hold on to them—Wolfram and Conrad—and his sanity.

Yozak took a slow breath. The wheels turned. _On the one hand, if I planned to escape… _Yes if planned to do it, he would have to pick a good time to do it. _Probably the early morning before sunrise, _he thought_._ But there was an excellent chance that Marelda would find him easily. As an oracle wielder who had seen his face and his aura, tracking him would be too simple—or so she'd said in the past. It was consistent with the rumors about that kind of wielder. So, he assumed it to be true. And his knee, where she'd hit him with the hammer, was swollen and still felt like hell. _How had she managed that? I think, maybe, she hit me with the powder first and the hammer came after we struggled. But taking out my knee was smart. I couldn't stand or run._ The spy tried to focus on it, but no luck. It was all such a blur anyway. Yozak also wondered what exactly she'd put in that knock out powder, too. His lips and part of his face still felt slightly numb from getting hit with the small bag of the tan colored stuff. _On the other hand, if I chose to stay…_ Well, he'd certainly learn more. Maybe, there was something else that had escaped his notice. There was also the chance that he'd overhear information that could help his king.

Looking around, there didn't seem to be much out of the ordinary. It was the typical blacksmith's—dirty with tools hanging off the walls and a compacted dirt floor. Anvils. There wasn't a fire going, though, and that gave him a little comfort. A hot poker could be an excellent form of "persuasion" should Marelda decide to use one.

The door groaned and he heard footsteps. They got closer and there was the whisper of fabric brushing against fabric.

Yozak closed his eyes again and relaxed his face.

"Awake I see," Marelda said with an edge in her voice, coming into the room with her skirts swishing. She wasn't fooled a bit. The man was awake and she knew it.

Sky blue eyes opened and looked at her.

Marelda kept her usual arrogant strides, but Yozak could see that something was off. There was a deep frown between her eyes and her hair was uncombed—as though she'd been sleeping and just woke up.

Yozak forced his face to be calm. He stared up at her, apparently bored.

Marelda walked around the room. She appeared to be almost nervous, seemingly rattled by something. She folded her arms against her ample bosom as if trying to decide what to do next. Her brown eyes drifted to the floor and stared a hole right in.

"Nope, it's all in motion now," she grumbled under her breath with a shake of her head.

_All in motion? What, the hell, is she talking about?_ The spy moved his eyes around the room. Everything was the same.

"I'll just wait for him to come and then…then…I'll deal with that ghost I saw…"

_To come? Ghost? What is she…?_

"And then," Marelda said crouching down to Yozak's level and putting a delicate finger under his chin, she lifted it up. Light brown eyes looked into sky blue. "Once I have Wolfram, I'll make him pay."

_Wolfram…?_ A look of recognition followed.

"Oh, so you know Little Lord Idiot, huh?" She grinned and leaned into Yozak's handsome face. She stroked his jaw line with an index finger.

_Oh, crap!_ He mentally punched himself for revealing that.

"So, is he a… 'personal' friend….of yours?" She stroked the spy's face with the palm of her hand now. She leaned in his ear and whispered, _"That's too bad."_

The spy held his breath now.

"Because Wolfram doesn't belong at Blood Pledge Castle. He's not good enough for the maou—for royalty. None of his family should rule...not him, not his father… So, I'm going to send Wolfram home… to his uncle, Waltorana. That noble bastard has a summer cottage not too far from here." The woman stroked Yozak's face again seductively. It made his skin crawl as he watched her eyes harden into something cold.

_For ransom? Is that why she wants Wolfram?_

"Yes, I'm sending him home," Marelda said with a sharp smile, "one piece at a time."

* * *

The heat from the fire didn't bother Wolfram in the slightest. His element was fire and he'd caused this one. On the plus side, it illuminated this part of the forest. He did have to worry about the fire in the trees spreading, though. But, thanks to some light rain earlier, he hoped that a few of the trees were still a bit damp. It would delay the fire from jumping from tree to tree. On the negative, there were shadows that moved with the flickering and he desperately wanted to find Conrad.

Two thin, scruffy thugs who were similarly dressed and wearing red strips of cloth as sweatbands around their foreheads jumped out at Wolfram from the shadows. The blond held his sword in a defensive stance. Nothing else existed but this moment as he eyed his opponents.

_I wonder about these two…_

The two humans had ferret features, skinny arms and legs, and the high pitched voices that totally failed to impress the handsome Mazoku when they tried, and failed miserably, to utter a manly "Yo!" in his direction.

To make matters worse, the blond almost laughed when he saw a pack of playing cards fall from the pocket of the first as he went for his sword. The second made a similar motion and ignored the deck being swept into the wall of fire. They hit the wall, burned with yellow flame, and curled as the fire consumed them.

The pair nodded to each other and immediately separated—one now approaching from the front and one from behind.

Green eyes narrowed. _If this is the way you want to play it…then… _With his sword already drawn, Wolfram took a step forward and struck at the face—which met steel.

"Stupid," Wolfram barked, almost as though he were training one of his men.

The force made the stranger's hand fly backwards.

"At least pretend that you know what you're doing!" Wolfram said again.

Immediately, with the next strike, Wolfram hit the idiot in the groin with the handle of his sword while in the process of turning the blade directly behind him, the tip of the blade pointing towards the attacker from the rear.

With a smirk of satisfaction, the blond heard the thug, who was now covering his crotch with both hands, utter a pathetic squeak and fall to the ground. For some reason, Wolfram had a sudden flash of memory and saw Yuuri, in a baseball uniform, fall down in a similar position on the ground for exactly the same reason. Deciding that it had to be some sort of battlefield stress or false memory, Wolfram chose to let it go with a shake of his head.

He lunged again for his second attacker.

"You're only slightly better…but you're still beneath me," the blond complained. "I can't believe that I lost to you people last time."

The long thrust that Wolfram made towards the rear was met, but barely in time. And, with another blow to the blade, the blond knocked the sword out of his opponent's hand and disarmed him.

Somewhere in the trees, Conrad shouted in frustration as he swung his sword and hit steel upon steel. His opponent fled swiftly only to find another hiding place from which to strike.

"Conrad?" Wolfram called.

"Wha-? Wolfram!" Conrad shouted, distracting the younger brother.

The blond turned slightly and cringed to himself as his second attacker limped away into the darkness.

Green eyes narrowed angrily at the body on the ground as Conrad approached.

"These two were idiots," Wolfram growled, pointing with the sword at the passed out thug who got a swift blow to the happy-sack and then pointing at the direction where the second had disappeared. "They weren't fit to shine my boots." He knelt down, ripped the sweatband off, flipped the thug over and tied his wrists together.

"Probably, their skill in killing didn't come from using swords. It was probably something else."

"Something a little more cloak and dagger, huh?" Wolfram said with an understanding nod.

"This way!" Conrad said to him. "We're too exposed right here and I think I know where the other three are."

"There are just three more of them?" Wolfram huffed, following quickly behind.

"Yes, but all three have swords and one has an arrow left."

Wolfram nodded. _So, they're down to one arrow. Good. There's two of us. So, we've got a chance._

"Where's Yuuri?" Conrad asked leading them to the safety of the first tree.

"Out of here," Wolfram said, breathing hard.

Then, he heard a noise, like feet shuffling on loose dirt. Wolfram turned his head, briefly, to look behind him and then saw it. The boss was standing where he and Conrad had been just seconds before. His grubby hand had gripped the bow tightly. He aimed. The arrow was at the ready. He was pulling the string back.

"Conrad, run!" Wolfram said and shoved his brother harshly to the right. Wolfram ducked down and hooked a left through the trees. _I can do this. I can make the archer fire in another direction, at me, and Conrad will be safe. I just need to make this look believable. That's all._ As terrified as he was at the prospect of dying alone and never seeing Yuuri again, it was a far better thing to happen to him than to have Conrad accidentally struck. He'd never live with himself if the archer missed and hit his older brother instead. _I can't let that happen!_ In his mind, Wolfram could just imagine the funeral and the hopelessness that would follow. The flags at half mast. Gwendal and Ulrike presiding, but holding back tears. The long, black coffin covered in red flowers. Yuuri sobbing helplessly in front of the grave on his knees. There would be no consoling him. Yes, Yuuri would be devastated without his godfather—lost in a Mazoku world with people who could never fully understand him. If a death would be involved, Wolfram decided, it would be his own because Yuuri would get over him with little effort, but Conrad was just too valuable.

He ran where he could be seen easily. _I accept this end to my life. But, please, Conrad, make it out of here. Be good to Yuuri. He loves you._

Conrad had the wind knocked out of him thanks to Wolfram's unexpected shove from behind. He stumbled over some tree roots and then stood up with his palm pushing against his aching chest only to lock eyes with the boss, his bowstring pulled back. He was aiming at…

_Me… He's aiming at me!_

Wolfram saw it, too. His soul froze_. Wait! No! I'm the one that they shot last time. Why not go for me now? This doesn't make sense! If they want me dead, just do it._

The bow was at the ready and the boss didn't need to have the oil lantern next to him to see exactly where Conrad was. This shot would be simple. The tall, brown haired man was there. Yes, all he would have to do is let go.

Wolfram screamed. He had only enough time to form a baseball sized fireball in his hands. He pitched it at the boss—hitting the oil lantern instead. It broke on impact and left a fiery trail in its wake.

The boss's face shot to Wolfram in surprise. Then he turned and fled into the darkness.

_I missed! I can't believe I missed!_

The blond soldier made a fist at his side, lowered his head, and shook with fury. A rage was building. And, in all of his fury for allowing the escape, Wolfram bellowed angrily at the heavens and sent a volcano of fire erupting into the sky.

* * *

Sitting high in one of the trees, Shinou's spirit surveyed the chaos below. Nothing surprised him—steel upon steel, fire, smoke, people shouting, horses charging forward. Yes, this was certainly the way things were. The way he remembered them to be. _The way things are now_, he mumbled.

When Shinou saw Wolfram's face, set and determined, he saw a piece of himself down there. An arrogant grin tugged at his lips which he gave into wholeheartedly. And the nostalgic soldier within could feel the call of the battlefield—the struggle to fight, to attack and counter attack, to push beyond his limits just to see what they were. There was victory, yes. But, for many of his men, there was defeat, the ultimate of which was death itself. And a quick death—if they were lucky. Yes, there was all of that. But, when Shinou watched Wolfram's drive and desire to live, he saw more. He saw Wolfram's ancestor, Rufus.

Of all Shinou's subordinates, Rufus was, by far, the most complex. And singling out a particular description or feeling was impossible for him. Like Yozak, Rufus began an early career as a spy—often dressing as a man and getting away with murder for being so convincing. But, in the next moment, Rufus could change clothes and go from being a handsome man to being an equally handsome woman. Thus, the problem that everyone had with Rufus. Being called "he" or "she"—"sir" or "miss"—was never an issue and was accepted equally by the fiery blond.

Shinou, himself, would occasionally forget and refer to Rufus as a "him"—only to get a self-satisfied smirk from the person who practically worshipped him.

Now, looking down at Wolfram from a height, Shinou could see clearly Wolfram's face the very second Conrad had asked about Yuuri's safety. There was that look. It was the same look that Rufus had when fighting alongside Shinou on the battlefield. History had a strange way of repeating itself. But, unlike Yuuri, Shinou had no set "fiancé" and took full advantage of his bachelorhood—even though he knew his heart and soul belonged to another. And his dalliance with Rufus, once discovered, would cause agony. But he believed somewhat foolishly back then that he could talk his way out of anything because he was beautiful and he was king.

Shinou dropped down from his perch and followed Wolfram's aura. Whether Wolfram accepted the next step or not was irrelevant. Truth be told, he would need the original king very soon. And it wouldn't be for a very pleasant reason.

* * *

As the horses approached the wall of fire, the heat radiated toward them. The group could feel the burn on their faces and through their military uniforms. Secretly, Gerard wondered what they'd do once they got there. He hoped that his king had a plan. But, just in case, Gerard began to sketch in his mind a way to lead the horses onto a trail that would bring them around the wall.

Yuuri, on the other hand, had something else in mind as he could feel a smile coming to his face. He'd done it.

The riders approached and began to slow down as the wall loomed up upon them.

"Stop," Yuuri ordered in an unusually deep voice.

Before their eyes, his black hair began to grow down to his shoulders. Yuuri's eyes turned into dark slits and his jaw widened. A blue aura of magic wrapped its arms around the maou like a lover.

Clouds gathered. Rain fell. The wall spat furiously in places, flickered brightly, and went out.

His well groomed hair wetted and plastered around his face, Gerard stared at the maou in shock. His eyes searched the skies and the, now open way, which was sizzling pathetically—growing dark and wet with the downpour.

Without the burning wall, darkness quickly descended upon them. If it weren't for the lanterns and a very thin but flaming line of oil on the ground, it would be almost impossible to see.

"We need to split up from here. I'll find Wolfram and Conrad. You go after the assassins." Yuuri growled and urged Murata on. The horse sped forward with the Gerard, Günter, and the soldiers following closely behind.

"Gerard," Günter said, without turning to him and, instead, grabbing one of the nearby lanterns on the ground. I want you to take half of the men and search to the right. I'll follow with the rest after Yuuri Heika."

The soldier nodded thankfully and searched the skies again. They were clearing very quickly and the stars began to shine down. At the moment, he had no real desire to spend more time with a furious Demon King who was searching frantically for his fiancé and godfather. Gerard leaned over, picked up a lantern, pointed to six men, and motioned for them to follow him. They did so.

"The rest of you, with me," Günter ordered. Then, he turned his gaze in the direction of Murata's horse. He could see it up ahead. So, he urged his elegant steed onward.

* * *

They were dodging in and out of the trees when the rain fell. Conrad tried to ignore it and kept his head down. Wolfram wasn't far behind.

"I see one of them," Conrad rasped.

"Up ahead and to the right?"

"Yes," the older brother said and changed his path to intercept.

Far up ahead, the male figure shifted and Wolfram cursed under his breath. He really wanted to get that bastard but the environment that they were in wasn't the easiest to deal with. The trees stood to block them and the weeds and grasses tugged at their feet. Still, the elder was within their sight. He was human, older, and not exactly in great physical shape even though it was clearly evident that he knew what he was doing with a sword. The man saw them, making tracks to the left. Conrad and Wolfram took off at a run.

"He's turning to the right now!" Running hard at full speed, Wolfram gritted his teeth, formed a fireball, and hurled it.

"Missed! Damn!"

"It's fine, Wolfram. We'll get him."

They burst into a small clearing near the road. Conrad approached the elder with his sword drawn. Wolfram made another fireball, one that filled his hand pleasantly. It was a shining beacon in the darkness.

"Give up now. Drop your sword and surrender."

The man's look of trepidation faded as his eyes drifted over to something just behind Conrad's shoulder. The brunette soldier turned his head slightly and glanced back at Wolfram.

It flew.

"Wolfram!" Conrad shouted as a small bag of powder hit the blond's profile—breaking open on contact and leaving shimmering, tan colored streaks across his face. Clumps of powder fell on his neck and shirt. He collapsed almost immediately.

"So," the elder said arrogantly with his sword drawn, "just curious… What are you going to do now?" He took a few steps closer to Conrad. "You know that I'm not alone here. And can you really fight me and protect that pretty blond baby over there?"

At the word "baby," Conrad's brown eyes narrowed. He repositioned his grip on the sword and made a silent vow to himself that Wolfram would survive this.

The elder prepared to make a lunge towards Conrad when a deep voice spoke up. "I think that's enough." The maou, still wrapped in blue magic, approached from the road with a dark spark in his eyes. Clouds gathered again. The wind picked up and the magic flowed away from him, swirling and spiraling viciously outward. Conrad had to tighten his grip as the blasts of air hit him.

"Oh, I agree with you—_Maou. _Yes, I know that's who you are," laughed another voice.

The maou turned to see that the boss, who had thrown the powder, was now kneeling right next to Wolfram's pale body. He was busy dusting the last of the tan stuff off.

Almost immediately, Günter and six soldiers came to a halt behind the maou, their uniforms whipped by the wind. Their swords were drawn, looking fierce. But, oddly, the boss didn't seem too bothered by it. He hoisted up Wolfram into his lap, placed the final painted arrowhead at Wolfram's throat. The rainbow obsidian arrowhead glistened in the lamplight.

Boss smiled with a full set of tartared teeth.

"I don't think you want to do that. Because, if we die, your little blond toy gets it."

From the sky, a lightning bolt hit the ground—setting the grass on fire. The maou's eyes narrowed, black slits menacing in the flashing, white light. The king stood his ground. Everyone else jumped.

He gritted his teeth into a grin and tightened his grip on the prisoner. "Tell me, maou," the elder taunted. He liked having Günter and the soldiers as an audience. And, when more arrived with Gerard leading the way, because they'd also seen the glow of Wolfram's fireball in the dark and a bolt of lightning, it only got better. "Yes, pray tell, what was it like to sleep with Wolfram the Undesirable?"

"Undesirable…?" Günter whispered to himself, totally out of the loop when it came to topics regarding Wolfram. He just had no interest. He noticed Gerard looking exceedingly uncomfortable, angry even. "It's a nickname people have given him in the village because the maou…doesn't…," Gerard trailed off in an undertone. But with a voice as deep as his, it easily carried and he knew that the other soldiers could overhear it as well, not that they didn't know, though.

"Did he throw himself at you? Was he so desperate and lonely that he begged you to kiss him?" The elder laughed at the image in his head. "A virgin whore."

The maou's blue magic brightened and his eyes glittered dangerously.

"No, wait!" The man laughed, "Lemme guess… You tossed him the old line, 'Let's just be friends,' right?"

The maou's features grew colder. The temperature dropped. Even with his cape on, Günter shivered. He'd never seen the maou so livid.

The black haired king stared a hole right through. "Hand him over and I just might let you live." It was a threat and an honest one.

"No," the elder said as a grumble. "So, how does it feel having a human tell you 'no'? Well, we're calling the shots here, not you. Deal with it." He stood up, pulling Wolfram to his feet along with him. The painted arrow was pushed harder against the throat and a small trickle of blood ran down the side of his neck.

"Oh my!" Günter gasped, seeing it. He raised his lantern a little higher to get a better view.

"Will the poison hurt him?" Gerard whispered to Günter with worry in his voice.

"I don't know. He had so much of the antidote… But that was awhile ago…"

Conrad found himself grinding his teeth.

"One false move…," the elder promised. He circled around to the boss and took the burden of Wolfram from him but the boss still had the arrow to the blond's neck. The two backed away slowly and were very much surprised when the maou walked toward them with even strides.

When they stopped, he did as well.

The maou wanted to lash out. It was his first instinct when being threatened. It could also create a diversion long enough to get the blond back—maybe. There was also the distinct possibility that the humans would kill Wolfram once they got alone with him and that, for this moment only, Wolfram was necessary to guarantee their means of escape. But, deep inside, Yuuri was fighting the maou. If there was a chance to reason with them, he'd at least try to see what they wanted.

Against his wishes, the maou was forced back. Yuuri collapsed to his knees and was breathing hard as though he'd been running a marathon. His hair had shrunk and his features were soft and boyish once again with hopeful eyes.

The humans stared in shock at that. But, it didn't last long. This "boyish" version of the maou seemed to be no threat.

"What do you want?" Yuuri choked out the words. Some part of him desperately needed to reach out for Wolfram.

"We're leaving. Don't try to stop us again." The elder grinned darkly at his own words.

Murata lowered his head. He knew what was going to happen next. He'd already seen it in the penumbra. And he felt totally useless as the "all knowing sage."

Ignoring everyone and forgetting his own embarrassment with intimacy, Yuuri cautiously reached out a hand for the blond. Slender white hands were hanging loosely down at Wolfram's sides. If Yuuri could only touch one and know that it was still warm, not cold porcelain... "Just tell me what you want. You wouldn't be going through this for nothing." He struggled to keep his voice calm. He had to stay in control. This moment was just too important.

"Take one step closer and he's dead," the boss growled, feeling nervous, "and that goes for all of you." He got a better grip on the arrow by repositioning his hand.

"Just hand him back, that's all I want," Yuuri's voice pleaded as he brushed against Wolfram's fingertips. He had to keep them talking. He just had to.

There was a sudden cry of pain as Wolfram's arm was twisted back to the point of breaking. He was semi-conscious now, emerald eyes half open and seeing Yuuri's face.

The pair began to drag the body off to a corner of the clearing where the fat nosed man with red freckles was standing with all three of their horses. Like a sack of potatoes, Wolfram was tossed carelessly onto the smallest, brown horse.

"No!" Yuuri yelled, afraid to move a step now.

The elder reached into his saddlebag, pulled out three round packages, and hurled them down. Clouds of sickly green filled the air.

"It could be poison! Back, please, Heika!" Günter pleaded.

But before Yuuri could argue with him, the smoke faded and the horses were gone.

"No," Yuuri said with a trembling voice. He stood up and turned to Conrad. "I want him back!" His black eyes pleaded. "I want him back, Conrad. Help me…"

On his horse, Murata could feel it. He sensed the presence. And his mind quickly told him it was moving away from them. _Shinou,_ Murata thought grimly, _what are you up to now?_

* * *


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

"Yuuri?" Murata said again. He was having trouble with his friend, and they had no time to argue. Time was ticking. "Listen, Yuuri," he repeated himself.

With hands clinched and eyes filled with angry tears, Yuuri's head tilted up to his friend on the horse. Rage. Fear. Determination. Muata could see it all. And, once again, it was there without the maou taking over.

_Maybe this is happening because, somewhere deep inside, Yuuri wants to handle this on his own. Or, maybe the maou wants Yuuri to take charge… I'm not sure which._

"Yuuri, I think I know of a way to track them," Murata said urgently and immediately felt the eyes of everyone around him. He scratched the back of his head nervously. "Just don't ask me how I know, okay?"

Now, the looks were incredulous.

The king's advisor blinked at that. It sounded ludicrous. "Sage, I know that you are wise in many things, but…at this juncture in time…and for Yuuri Heika…this is…" Günter prattled aimlessly.

"We really haven't time for this," he interrupted and tightened his grip on the reins. "Shibuya, in all of the years we've known each other…" Murata took a quick breath and continued somewhat sharply, "I don't think I've ever had to ask you to trust me."

Yuuri nodded and wiped his eyes on his black sleeve. "I'm sorry. It's not that. It's just…"

"I know," Murata mumbled, remembering the "stay out of my business" speech that Yuuri had given him not too long ago. Maybe this was asking too much of their, now, fragile friendship.

He turned his head in surprise as he felt Yuuri hop on behind him. The horse, a bit startled at that, took a few surprised steps which required a firm hand from the sage.

"I trust you. I really do. So, let's track them down and get Wolfram back." Considering how upset Yuuri was at that moment, he was impressed with himself that he was able to sound decisive and that he had a steady voice to back it all up. Even though he knew he was the maou, some part of him worried that the others wouldn't follow his order. If necessary, though, he'd got it alone.

"Okay," Murata said with relief. It felt good to have Yuuri working with him on this. Then, he brightened a little to lift the mood. "But, once we do get him back, don't tell him how much we fretted. He'll get a big head over it."

Sage or no sage, that got Murata a sharp glare from Gerard. Yuuri saw it and lowered his head as Murata turned the horse back toward the main road. _It's the only explanation_. The double black glanced over his shoulder again as their speed picked up. _I think Gerard really is in love with Wolfram. I…don't…like that. But I can live with it because it means that someone else cares._

The group fell in line behind Murata, and they followed him at a gallop.

* * *

The fat nosed man, the boss, and the elder were speeding along, proud of themselves. This evening, they'd made a fool of the maou and had him on his knees. Best of all, they'd left with the prize that he'd wanted so badly. And it was good to make the stinking Demon King suffer. Marelda would probably complement them for it.

The only minor difficulty at the moment was a certain blond soldier's body, which was still hanging over like a sack of potatoes—arms dangling on one side and legs on the other. It was, unfortunately in his opinion, the elder's job to keep hold of Wolfram to make sure that he didn't go sliding off the horse and onto the dirt road below. Luckily, the young Mazoku's frame was thin and easy to manipulate. When Wolfram's body began to slide down from the horse, he'd grab the blond by the belt and shove him up a little. "Be grateful that I've got three bitchy wives in three different ports of call, blond boy. I've got no interest in you besides more money," he grumbled followed by a hard slap on Wolfram's ass.

Once they'd gotten far enough down the road, the boss reigned in his horse and called, "Oy, Ben!"

The others stopped, too.

Ben, the fat nosed one, looked over. His red hair was wet and hanging in his eyes thanks to the rain shower that the maou had created.

"Open your saddle bag and get the 'bracelet' for our little blondie friend here."

"Right…" Fat nose untied the bag, flipped back the leather, and rummaged around. Starlight didn't help his searching any and he made a frustrated face. "Found it, Boss." He grabbed something else that Marelda had given them before they left her home. It was a strand of leather, like a string bracelet, that had charms swinging from it. The 'charms' were, in fact, small hoseki stones. He tossed it to the elder who caught it in one hand, leaned over, and tied Wolfram's wrists together. Almost immediately, the blond Mazoku hissed in pain when the stones touched his skin. It began to turn red as though sunburned. "Yuuri." He whimpered the name.

The elder looked on in satisfaction to see Wolfram's body sag immediately. "Well, he won't be giving us any trouble on the trip back."

"Yup, sucked the life right out of him," fat nose chuckled. "Oy, boss? Should I hit him again with the sleeping powder? I thought I saw his eyes open a minute ago."

The boss thought about it. But Wolfram seemed "out" right now. He worried that if they gave extra sleeping powder to the blond, he might die. And, then, Marelda would have their heads—or worse, not pay the extra little bonus that she promised. The deal was to deliver an "untouched and alive" Wolfram to her. So, that was what she was going to get. And, with the money she promised, they could go back to the human lands and live in relative comfort for the rest of their lives because they'd only have to split the money three ways now.

A cloud covered the moon and the boss looked up with a scowl at that. Damned inconvenient. He got off of his horse, grabbed a broken branch from the side of the road, and lumbered back to his horse. The man opened his own saddlebag, pulled out a rag and tied it around the stick. He doused it in some lamp oil, and then set it on fire. Now, he could see and they could make their way back.

"Come on, you two," came the rough grumble.

The elder looked to the fat nosed one. Yes, time to go.

They resumed their gallop down the dirt road. But, as they did so, the elder shivered. It was a cold shiver that came to him out of nowhere. At first, he thought that it was just a chill—a cold pocket that he'd hit in a low lying area. It happened a lot when he went riding and when the ride was fast enough, he'd feel it doubly hard. But, this stretch of road was flat and there were no marshes or lakes around. He shivered again and felt something.

"What is it?" The boss snapped. He would be edgy until they made their final _delivery_.

"Oh…Nothing."

It was weird.

* * *

The road up ahead split. The main section went forward, but a side road meandered to the right. Murata stopped the group, closed his eyes, and waited for the feeling to hit him. Yes, it was that same thrilling sensation in his chest—an anticipation and almost a scent, now, of musk. The right. Yes, that was it.

"This way," the sage said, following Shinou's trail. It had been a couple of hours and he could still sense it. _What_ _are you up to, Shinou? This feels like it's on purpose_. Murata knew full well that if the Original King wanted to, he could certainly cover up his aura and magic—making it a challenge to follow. But, of course, Murata also knew that if he concentrated hard enough, he could find Shinou with time. _Right now, I'm sure he's enjoying the thought of his sage following after him in the dark. Sometimes, I really hate you, Shinou. This is going to stroke your over-sized ego. _

The horses picked up the pace a little, moving at a trot. Murata's face twitched. The feeling of the pull changed now. _S-strange… Why do I…?_ For some reason that he couldn't understand Murata's heart was almost nervousness—a residue of memory that felt like he always did before a battle started. _How? Does he want me to sense this?_ At the same time, Murata also wondered if the red thread that connected them made it possible.

_For once, maybe my connection to Shinou will have a purpose. _He scratched the back of his head.

"I know this stretch of road," Conrad said, breaking the sage out of his thoughts. Murata turned and watched the godfather pulling up his horse next to Yuuri's.

"You…do?" Yuuri said, looking puzzled. "How?"

"It's the same way I took when coming back from the Meiger Farm."

"The place you and Yozak were observing?" Günter chimed in. He hated being left out and the silence that he'd been living with for over the past two hours was getting to him.

"The same," Conrad acknowledged. "And, to be honest, if we do end up there, I'd really like to see how Yozak is getting along." His brown eyes suddenly seemed slightly worried. "But, if that's where they're taking Wolfram, then it's better if Yozak is there, too."

"If he can assist us, it would be a great benefit," Günter agreed with a grave nod.

"Yes, that's right," Yuuri said, brightening. "And if Yozak can tell us what's going on, then we'll have a better idea of the situation that we're walking into." There was hope again in the onyx eyes. And even though he was the only one feeling that way, it quickly lifted the mood for the others. He gave them a spark of hope that was infectious.

* * *

Yozak had been dozing in his spot. Still tied up, there was nothing better for him to do. So, he forced himself to close his eyes and relax. A part of him had hoped that the mice would take a sudden, inexplicable interest in his bindings and would gnaw the damn things right off. But, he knew better than to have any real hope of it happening. Still, it was a nice thought. Maybe, over a few beers, he'd mention that thought to Conrad and they'd laugh about it. Yozak forgot himself, smirked, and had to fight the gag reflex. The rag in his mouth had become rancid.

The door to the blacksmith's opened roughly and hit the wall with a loud _bang_. Yozak jerked and his eyes flew open at that. Heart beating hard, he wondered what would be up next, but forced himself to appear calm despite the sudden arc of adrenaline racing through his body—wanting him to fight for his life. But, being bound and his leg aching from where Marelda had dealt with him, there was no way he could do it. _Maybe Conrad will come…maybe…_

"In here…put pretty baby down over in that corner…"

"Right, Boss."

"Hey, look," the fat nosed man said, suddenly coming into view with a lamp. It pushed back the dim light of the lonely oil lamp burning on the far table. Sky blue eyes squinted up at them. But it was the fat nosed one, out of the trio, who knelt down to get a better look. "Oy, Marelda's got another toy tied up in here. And he's got red hair just like mine." Yozak forced his face to be slack as the man touched a strand of hair and rolled it between his finger tips.

"Hmmm… I wonder what she's got planned to do with you," he said in a low voice. "But, whatever it is, she wants you tied up tight. Kinky…"

The elder watched them, crossed his arms, and sighed impatiently. "That hair's not red, ya know. It's orange…" he said offhandedly, "But I'm sure you use the same hairdressers."

"Very funny…not," fat nosed man said with a curled lip. He reached back and dragged over Wolfram—dropping the blond on the ground at Yozak's feet. The other two lit candles. It was just too dark in there.

Blue eyes widened when he could finally see well.

_Wolfram? Oh, no… _Without thinking, the spy moved in to check for a heartbeat. The ropes reminded him otherwise and his knee instantly burned like fire._ Hurts…_ He bowed his head and forced himself to concentrate or he'd blackout. It was that bad, he realized. Nonetheless, the thought that kept ringing in his head was:_ Conrad's not going to like this when he finds out!_

Once the pain subsided, Yozak forced his attention back to the trio. He needed to know more if he was to be of any help. His first impression was that they seemed antsy and shuffled a bit as they spoke. Blue eyes darted at them as they grumbled amongst themselves in a little group with their backs to him about the whereabouts of the bonus and Marelda. They wanted their money now and to be on their way. The words "we deserve it" and "we showed 'em who's boss" floated on the air.

Yozak bit down on his gag in anger.

_You people are going to get the wrath of the Maou Heika and the __The Lion of Lütenberg. I don't envy you._

In the next moment, there appeared before him the image of a younger Conrad. His face was different back then. It was a look that Yozak still saw in his nightmares because he'd seen it on the battlefield-- a face that had witnessed enough bloodshed to last a thousand lifetimes. And that face, that look, was still there—hiding just under the surface of practiced smiles and a thin mask of reason. As the Warrior of Lütenburg and subordinate to this man he'd come to admire over the years, Yozak Gurrier knew full well the powerful rage of Conrad Weller should anyone harm the people he loved.

And Wolfram was loved much more than he'd ever know.

Loyalty and instinct told Yozak to struggle against his bonds—to free himself and rescue the blond. Cold logic told him it was useless. If he could have escaped, he would have done so hours ago.

"Well, I'll go look for the bitch," the elder grumbled, followed by "fine" from the other two.

Sky blue eyes turned from them and back to the young soldier at his feet. Yozak watched the body for any signs of movement. But Wolfram's form was lying there quietly before him—pale and peaceful. His lips were parted. His face had small scratches that had been bleeding red tears which were well dry by now. The blond hair, on the dirt floor, picked up a little of the brown sediment and his clothes had a brownish rust look.

_Wolfram? I know we've never really hit it off…but… Please be alive. If only for your brothers' sakes… and heika's…_

The door opened again. But it made a woeful groan this time. Heavy footsteps entered. And Yozak was a little surprised to see the boss and the fat nosed man back up, almost scurry, like the mice that infested the blacksmith's shop.

_That sounds like boots. And, not the soft footsteps of a lady, either. I wonder…?_

"It's you again," the boss said, a very polite tone of voice—respectful even. His hands were limp at his sides.

"Yes, it's been awhile though," the fat nosed man chimed in with an overly wide grin on his zit-covered face. He looked like a clown.

_I've seen them with Marelda. And this isn't how they talk to her. Strange_…

"Did you do the job or not?"

"See here?" the fat nosed man said and made a gesture towards the ground with an index finger.

Jacob walked into view with his hands on his hips. He was out of his castle guard uniform and back into a pair of brown trousers and a white, long sleeved shirt. His eyes, then, drifted to Yozak and he leaned into the surprised face. His laugh was laced with malice.

"For being the castle spy and the maou's personal guard, you really aren't very observant."

Yozak was dumbfounded. _How in all the Hells?!_

"I've been following this girly thing for awhile now." Jacob gave Wolfram a hard kick in the butt. "You didn't notice. Come to think of it, nobody did." He cocked his head to one side and laughed a little. "And being posted outside of the study and working for von Voltaire didn't exactly hurt, either."

He grinned at the orange haired man just like the school bully that he used to be. The years hadn't changed Jacob at all.

Yozak blinked at that. His eyes moved back and forth—sifting through memories of the times he'd seen Jacob in the castle. _But what reason would he have to do this? Why betray the king and steal his fiancé ? It's a risk…a big one…_

"And, you know," Jacob continued, and laughed at himself for a minute, "I really thought that blondie down there would catch on to me when I handed him the note of challenge." He kicked Wolfram in the stomach this time and, almost immediately, his body curled into a fetal position.

As bad as it must have felt, the reaction gave the spy a little hope.

"I told this idiot that a child gave me the message. What child, at night and during one of the biggest festivals in the village, would be handing a letter of challenge to a duel to me at the castle? Would that happen? Of course not! If given anything, including messages, protocol would direct me to hand this over to my superior officer because leaving would be abandoning my post. And how would I even know, as a lowly guard, where to find the oh so sexy Lord Wolfram von Bielefeld …who was in disguise, mind you?

Then, at the memory, Jacob's eyes narrowd. "Oh, and by the way, when I did find him…he was snogging Yuuri Heika against a tree."

Disbelieving, Yozak blinked owlishly at that and tilted his head to one side.

"What?" Jacob said, vastly amused. He did a little twirl of joy. He'd finally gotten a reaction out of the spy. "You didn't know they were like that?" Then, he bent down on one knee to look eye to eye with Wolfram and stroked his cheek. "The poor maou," he said calmly, "will have to find another fiancé because this pretty little angel is going to Heaven soon."

Jacob stood up, folded his arms across his chest, and smirked.

Below them, Wolfram moaned. His emerald eyes opened a crack. "Yu-uri…?"

"So, you're back," Marelda said, peeping over a broad shoulder.

Jacob twisted slightly behind to look at her. "I told you I was coming. Besides, at this point, I need to keep an eye on you."

"Spoil sport," she pouted and stuck out her lower lip.

She got a soft pat on the head for that.

"It's what big brothers are for."

* * *

As the horses continued riding into the wee hours of the morning, Yuuri noticed that Murata had become very quiet. His head would turn right and left on the road even if there wasn't an intersection or parallel trail nearby. He seemed to be looking, almost calculating something. And, for the life of him, Yuuri really wanted a quick peek into the sage's mind. Little did he know that Murata, who was still following the trail, had given up his pride and started calling for Shinou. Worse yet, he needed to meet him in the penumbra. But, Shinou was either ignoring his soul's call or wasn't in a position to respond. The latter was a very disconcerting thought because there were only a few situations he knew of when Shinou wasn't able to respond.

"I don't want this to happen," Yuuri could hear him mumble. "Damn."

Misunderstanding him, Yuuri held onto his waist tightly at that, leaned over, and said, "We'll get there. Just lead us."

Slightly surprised, Murata turned his face back and forced a fake smile onto his face. "You're right."

* * *

"Look, we've done our job. Now, we wanna be paid and we'll be on our way," the boss said, staring narrowly at Marelda because it was easier than Jacob. Women, in his opinion, would always buckle under the pressure of a businessman with his hand out for cash. But, surprisingly, Marelda wasn't that kind of woman.

"Just do as I say or you won't get anything at all," she grumbled while pulling back her brown hair behind her ears. "Better yet, cross me and I'll dump your sorry hide on the Demon King's doorstep."

At that, the boss and the elder both grabbed one of Wolfram's arms and attempted to hoist him up. The body seemed almost boneless. With effort, they dragged him to the opposite side of the shop where Yozak couldn't see. What little the orange haired man could make out, mostly from tilting his head up as high as he could, was a hook in the ceiling and a thin rope suspended from it. One end came down in a straight line. Suddenly, it wiggled as though being knotted onto something. His guess was Wolfram. But exactly where, he couldn't see. The opposite end of the rope was tied up against the wall.

"That's it. Tie blond boy's legs."

Yozak's eyes widened at that. Now, he found himself struggling against his bonds roughly—taking the skin off while he was at it.

"Together like this?" the elder asked.

"Well…yeah…"

_Together?_ he thought with only a slight bit of relief. Then, with more determination, he tried again to wiggle the knot loose on his ropes.

"Ma-rel-da?"

Jacob had entered the blacksmith's shop again, chomping on a roll. "Hey, sis…?" He turned around only to find her coming in the door behind him. "Hi," he said distractedly and gave his bite a thoughtful chew. "I just wanted to remind you not to kill him. Play with Bielefeld all you like, but don't finish him, okay?"

"Fine, fine," she said in the snippy tones of a pissed off little sister.

"Good."

Yozak could see Marelda and Jacob walking around the shop, supervising everything. The spy lowered his eyes and pretended to watch the floor.

"Because you know what I want out of him."

Yozak held his breath for a second. _Want out of him? This sounds really…wrong…_

"You've told me too many times." She ended it with an impatient sigh, trying not to sound interested in the slightest. "Once I'm done, I'll let you bleed him dry." She wrinkled her nose at the thought of collecting it. "But, are you sure this will work?"

Jacob nodded. "Yes… That alchemist I wrote to in Big Cimaron gave me the ingredient list for a potion that can be used as either a waterproof disappearing ink or as a powerful poison. But I need the blood of a fire mazoku…a lot of it, in fact…to make it work." Then, the ex-guard turned his hot gaze on Yozak. "And, once I'm done, we'll try it out on our castle spy over here." He quirked a smile and said, "I find it ironic that it will be Wolfie-baby's blood that will kill you...and make us a fortune for us in our new home…in the human territories."

* * *


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Wolfram found himself sitting in a field of flowers. They were splotched red and orange with five petals and thick green stems. The fragrance was soft, fine, and lilting. It hung on the wind and, just as quickly, disappeared with it.

There were rolling hills and thick clouds that hovered over—casting inky patches on the ground. He could feel the sun shine on his face, but it lacked the warmth that he was used to. And he found himself able to look directly at the burning orb without squinting.

"Do you like it?"

Wolfram's head snapped in the direction of the voice. It came from the person sitting beside him.

"How did you…?"

"How did I do that?" Shinou asked, his head tilted to one side with a smug grin on his face. The blond king was in his usual garb with a cape hanging off of his shoulder. He was sitting Indian style next to the younger man, practically elbow to elbow.

Wolfram shook his head and soft blond hair fell into his face, brushing his cheeks.

"That's because…you aren't really here."

The younger blond looked at him incredulously. "How…? I mean…" He reached out for a flower, stroked it and then picked it. "But this feels so…"

"Real," Shinou finished for him. "Yes, I know." He leaned over and watched Wolfram's face a little and then turned his gaze on the blazing, floral field. "I know it seems that way, but this isn't where you are. Well, to tell the truth, it isn't where your body happens to be at the moment."

_Did I die?_ Wolfram thought, turning his gaze back to the flowers. Absently, he twirled the one he still had between his fingers and thumb. _Then, where did they bury me? Certainly, not in the royal mausoleum where they bury the maous and their spouses. We never got married. I'm probably in the family grave back in __Bielefeld__ territory. _The blond tilted his head back and closed his eyes._ Even in death, I can't be beside Yuuri. Loving him was hopeless after all. _

Wolfram brushed the flower against his cheek. He would have cried, but the tears wouldn't come. _If I can, I'll find Yuuri's ancestors and we'll watch over him. More than that, I will protect him…and, when he moves on and forgets me, I'll watch over the person he chooses to marry. Whoever he wants, I'll accept. Yuuri deserves love…even if it doesn't come from me. I don't want him to live out the rest of his life alone. I did that for far too long. Waiting to be loved. He deserves better than that._

"Don't you want to know where you are?" Shinou asked. The silence confused him. Then again, most of what Wolfram did was confusing. In Shinou's opinion, he seemed to be the descendent who inherited many of the worst traits from both himself and Rufus. The young man was fiery, impulsive, opinionated, loud…annoying. The list could go on and on.

Emerald eyes looked at him sincerely. "I suppose…I died…"

Shinou cocked his head to the side again and regarded him for a minute. "Not just yet."

"Eh?" Wolfram glanced around him. "Then, where is this?"

"Ah, finally an intelligent question."

That got the former king a sour look.

"To be honest, my dear Wolfram, this place is a memory."

"Eh?" Wolfram racked his brains trying to remember actually being in this place before. "I can't see how it's possible. I don't recall…"

Shinou pointed to the far left with an index finger. Wolfram's eyes caught a couple sitting in the field, sharing a bottle of wine and talking quietly. It was the Original Sage and Shinou himself. "This memory is mine." He raked his hair with his fingers and said, "This was a day. It was just an ordinary day. But it was also a moment….like magic, I suppose." The couple laughed softly over a joke and the sage gave the king a friendly slap on the shoulder. The Shinou of the past, wearing a casual dark green shirt and brown trousers, rested his elbow on his knee and placed his face in his palm. There was boyish shrug at something the sage was complaining about, based on the gestures. They both laughed again softly, the way adults often do.

"I visit this memory when I need a rest."

Wolfram nodded. It sounded like Yuuri's weird and somewhat confusing explanation of a "happy place." Though, Yuuri's "place" seemed to be either a baseball game where the Hanshin Tigers were winning or an island paradise out in the middle of nowhere. Of course, Wolfram always frowned at the latter and threatened him that his "happy island" had better not have beautiful women or men on it. He had a fiancé, and it would be better to focus on that.

"You have one, too, you know."

Wolfram crossed his arms defensively. It seemed ridiculous. He had no need for silly fantasies.

"Don't believe me?" Shinou said in his ear.

The younger blond cut his eyes in the king's direction.

"I thought so." He laughed and the scene melted away into a darkened room. Wolfram was standing in the king's chambers. He stood in one spot, waiting for his eyes to adjust. When they did, he noticed the four poster canopy bed. Yuuri was asleep, soft dark hair on the pillow, and Greta was next to him making little babyish snores. Wolfram could see "himself" coming through the door. He stepped aside to let himself pass. It was odd to watch another "Wolfram" from this vantage point. The blond noticed that he was exhausted—moving wearily, taking effort in all that he did. The man he saw undressed himself and placed his uniform carelessly on the chair next to the closet. Practically naked now, he reached for the pink, frilly nightie and frowned at it. Was he tired of wearing it? Or was he tired of this whole situation? He sighed and pulled on the gown with rough, callused fingers from sword fighting.

"I remember this night," Wolfram said to himself. Then, he felt self-conscious as he realized that Shinou was coming up behind him.

"You should. It wasn't all that long ago."

"The night before I was hit with the arrow…" Wolfram nodded as he said it and watched himself approach the window—pulling the curtain back and staring out at the night scene below. Everything was dark and beautiful, full of midnight blues and blacks. The moon gave a gentle glow as a whisp of clouds caressed it.

Wolfram unlatched the window before him. He opened it a crack and the breeze picked up the hem of the nightie. Not caring in the slightest, the blond leaned against the wall and continued to stare with lonely eyes. "Why am I here?"

"Because you sneak into my room every night," Yuuri said, sitting up in bed and squinting at his accidental fiancé with sleepy, onyx eyes. He covered a yawn.

"Yuuri, you're awake."

"Yeah, I kind of heard you coming in." He yawned again and gave his raven hair a good scratch.

"Oh." It was all that Wolfram could think to say. He turned his back to Yuuri and stared out the window again. Lightly, his fingers traced a pattern on a pane of glass.

"Wolfram?"

"Hm?" His hand froze. He turned, still touching the glass. And what he didn't notice at the time was that Yuuri's expression had changed to one of concern.

"Wolfram, I…"

"Hmmm?" Slowly, the blond shifted his body to look at him with hands resting on his hips.

"Never mind… Come to bed, Wolfram."

"I'm keeping you awake," he said with a sigh, dropping the tough act, and trudging over to his side of the bed. "I shouldn't…I mean… I shouldn't have bothered you." He added a shrug to end his sentence.

"No, you're not," Yuuri assured him with a smile in his voice.

"Right." Though, Wolfram's voice was more of a sigh.

"No, seriously," he reassured him. Then, he reached over, across Greta, and took the blond's hand.

Wolfram's eyes shot to Yuuri with a flicker of hope in them.

The double black gave a slight chuckle and closed his eyes. "G'night."

"Same to you, Yuuri."

The two of them held hands all night long with their palms resting softly on their daughter's heart.

"This is your happiest memory, Wolfram," Shinou said behind him.

"Yes, it is."

"Good," the former king said, turning Wolfram by the forearm to face him. "So, when the situation gets bad…really bad…I'm going to send you to these two memories. Relive them as often as you like. And, in return, you will allow me to borrow your body."

Emerald eyes narrowed at him suspiciously. This made absolutely no sense. "Why do this now? You've possessed me…"

"I think 'taken over' is more preferable…" Shinou had one finger up in the air with an annoyed grimace, like a teacher correcting his worst pupil who simply wasn't getting it no matter how hard he tried.

"Whatever…" There was an impatient huff from the shorter, blond male. "Okay… Fine… You've _taken over_ before without my permission." Wolfram folded his arms defensively across his chest. "Though a better question would be 'Why ask now?' I suppose."

Shinou frowned back, almost hesitant—which was odd for him. "Because this time, and I really hate to phrase it this way, the pain is going to be excruciating. And I need to see what is going on without the threat of being kicked out of your body."

"So, all this time, I only needed to be in pain to get rid of you."

Shinou frowned at that. For a second, he felt like a king who had his favorite falcon peck him hard just before the hunt.

"Pain?" he sniped back placing a _not so friendly_ hand on Wolfram's shoulder. "Have you ever taken a good look at your own soul? Talk about scars. You're more messed up than I am."

* * *

Yozak could hear them laughing at Wolfram, tied up as he was by his wrists.

"That's it, guys," the elder said, ending his statement with the kind of rumbling chuckle that only tobacco smokers could do.

Yozak could just make out the upper torso of the elder. From this vantage point, it seemed as though the unshaven man was peering down at something. Unfortunately, there were a couple of tables with junk on them that the spy couldn't see past. Nonetheless, he kept his blue eyes on the elder and cringed as he watched the man shift his weight onto one foot to kick Wolfram. The taut rope that led down was now swinging and shaking awkwardly with the weight of something tied to the end of it. And there was no mistaking it in Yozak's mind. Conrad's brother, whether conscious or not, was at the other end.

Another kick.

This time, Yozak could hear a groan. He cringed at it.

"Oi," the elder said to Marelda, who had just entered the room again. "I think he's coming to."

"Wonderful," she said while slipping a necklace around the blond's neck and resting it against his chest. Immediately, Wolfram let out a yelp as the burning sensation seeped through the cloth and into his skin.

Several feet away, Yozak's body jerked at the sound. His eyes were searching frantically and he lifted his head to see if there was anything that could possibly help them.

Turning around abruptly, Marelda sashayed out saying, "I need to get something and I'll be right back." She disappeared through the door and never heard the boss say to his men, "I hate that bitch."

* * *

Conrad stayed by Yuuri as they rode along. Even though a part of him was doing it to reassure himself that his king and godson was fine, another part needed the company and companionship even if he couldn't admit it out loud.

"Ouch," Yuuri grumbled.

"Problem, Shibuya?" Murata asked before Conrad could say anything.

"Nope…just tired. But we all are."

"Hey, just don't fall off," the sage joked quietly.

The horse galloped on and Conrad cut his eyes to Yuuri again. _Fall off? Yes, he does look tired. But he's worried, too. _In the dark, maybe no one would notice. Still, Conrad struggled to hide his concern. His godson's safety meant everything to him now that Wolfram was gone. Not that one was a substitute for the other. Far from it. But, he just needed to feel protective. And Yuuri allowed that cold comfort.

"Heika?" Conrad began.

Still sitting behind Murata, Yuuri gave a small smile at him from on his horse. "Let me save you the trouble." Onyx eyes looked at Conrad's brown ones sincerely. "You just said 'heika," and I'm going to say 'Call me Yuuri. After all, you're the one who named me.' And, then, you are going to say 'Fine, Yuuri.' Am I right?"

Conrad chuckled. Yes, that was the script that the two of them had developed over the years.

"Do you know why I never really get tired of that?" Yuuri asked. There was a thread of mirth in his voice.

"Why?"

"Because, after all of these years, it's still nice to hear it."

Yuuri held on tight as his horse leaped over a piece of broken branch in the road. Then, he turned back to his godfather. "And I know that I've been kind of selfish for awhile now. I'm worried about Wolfram, yes, but he's your brother…" Then, Yuuri's look seemed far away. "We've both watched him grow up, you know? He means something to us. And we'll get him back. I know we will."

Murata turned down a narrow trail.

Conrad shook his head. All doubts gone now. "This is exactly the way we head to the Meiger Farm."

Murata turned his face to Conrad and pushed his glasses up on his face with a finger. "Tell me, do they have something that looks like a workshop?"

"Workshop?" Yuuri parroted, confused as to why the sage would suddenly bring up something like that.

"You know…like a blacksmith's shop?" He focused his mind's eye on the visions. The setting seemed to be the interior of some kind of soot-covered blacksmith's shop.

Conrad nodded darkly. "They do. It's around the side of the main house." He seemed to search the sage's face for something. "But, how would you…?"

"Then, we've got to ride and ride hard!" Murata cut him off.

"We're about an hour away if we go at top speed," Conrad said with alacrity.

"You lead the way. We'll follow!" Yuuri said. He had hope in his voice. And, once again, it spread to the others traveling with them.

The horses rode away into the darkness.

* * *

The lithe body was tied up, arms over head. The rest slumped piteously down towards the floor. Pain floated in from somewhere. Slowly, emerald eyes opened. His ribs were hurting like mad and each breath ached terribly. Maybe, he'd fallen down, but some part of him felt like he'd been struck with something.

"Where…?" he groaned.

With some effort, Wolfram tried to move his legs only to discover that they were bound tightly together with a thin rope. He was kneeling—wearing only his white, long sleeved shirt and blue breeches. Around Wolfram's neck was a thin beaded necklace made of hundreds of polished hoseki stones. The back of his neck burned from the touch. There was a leather strand tied around his wrists with more hoseki stones dangling from it like a charm bracelet. Wolfram peered at these—knowing the purpose all too well. And when he tested out the rope, the charms swung and stung his wrists like a grease burn. He gritted his teeth together at the feeling.

_Hoseki stones…damn… How strong are these?_

To test them, Wolfram concentrated and tried to make a flame. Instead, he made a bright spark—which should not have been possible at all. He knew it. And, then, he thought about it a little more.

_Shinou_, he called in his mind, _are you still with me?_

_Yes._

_Then, tell me what to do_. There was a pause.

_Endure._

Wolfram's eyes shot open at the feeling of his new shirt being ripped and spread apart in the back. He tried to prepare himself for what was to come. But, there really was no way he could do it.

The figure circled around and stared down.

"You!" Wolfram growled angrily with clinched teeth.

"Remember me?" she asked in a mocking tone.

"Who could forget?" Wolfram spat back, making only a weak lunge in her direction thanks to the stones sapping his strength. His body swung on the rope a bit, giving rope burns. He was breathing hard and his head hung down. "My father's _old concubine_." He bit out the words. "I wondered what happened to you, Marelda." He narrowed his green eyes and forced his face up to meet her. "Of course, my mother kicked you out with the rest of the trash. She made such a show of it, too. I knew I could never forget the face of the woman who broke up her marriage."

Marelda only smiled at that.

"You know, you look a lot like your mother, _Wolfie_." She stroked his face with the palm of her hand in a kindly fashion. She was going to enjoy this immensely.

He kept his face set, determined not to cringe at the nickname. She still knew it after all of these years. Then again, of course she would. Everyone knew.

"So, this is going to be pretty easy. I'll do you and…think about her."

"My mother kicking your ass out of the castle is what I'll think about," Wolfram quipped. But forcing the words took effort. He was tired already.

Marelda walked up to Wolfram with the dark brown leather whip in her hand. She lifted his chin with the end of it to let him feel the texture. "You know, I only use this when I help drive the cattle," she said with a smile. "Of course, I'd never use this on one of my animals. It's just to scare them. If I actually did…," she said with a thunderous crack against Wolfram's waist. His body swung on the suspended rope, which creaked deeply, and it took all of his energy to hold back a scream. Instead, with a sharply inhaled breath, he stared defiantly with shiny eyes that begged to cry. "As I said, if I actually used this on one of my cattle, it would ruin the hide." She circled around and, once again, a long ripping sound soon followed. The shirt was practically torn in two in the back—attached to the collar.

Several feet away, Yozak's ears perked up.

_No…oh, Wolfram…no…this can't be…_

Very quickly, Marelda pulled the pieces of Wolfram's shredded white shirt away to reveal smooth, porcelain skin. "This is what you get," Marelda said taunting him, "for not being reasonable and dying in the first place when the arrow hit you."

_Whack._

"You were always such a brat."

Wolfram flinched and tried to breathe through the pain. The initial sting was nothing to the pulsing agony that quickly followed. He could feel his flesh slicing open. Passing out almost seemed preferable.

The orange haired man struggled against his bonds again and bit on his gag. He fought them and twisted hard—feeling the ropes give a little until he realized that he was merely tightening his own knot.

_Nothing…there's nothing I can do…_

Feeling exhausted now, he shook his head angrily in defeat as he could hear the sound of the whip striking Wolfram and the blond's desperate attempt to suppress his screams.

_Whack._

There was blood on the floor. Each time his body sagged, he could see large splotches of it around his knees.

_Whack._

Wolfram was aching, starting to cry. Loud sobs coming from him and tears striking the dirt floor, mixing with the blood. She hit the place where the arrowhead had penetrated his skin and a hellish victim's scream soon followed.

Yozak struggled again, rubbing his wrists raw with the effort to free himself. Nothing. In desperation, he looked over to see that the rope was pulled tight. The body must have collapsed upon itself.

Then, Yozak caught Marelda's words: "You're all alone. You've always been alone. No one's coming for you." Then, kneeling down in front of him—close enough to kiss—she whispered the name against his tear-stained lips, 'Wolfram the Undesirable'."

_Whack_.

Yozak's eyes widened at that. Wolfram was passed out when he got here. _He thinks that he's all alone—that nobody knows he's here._ The determined look on his face marked his decision. Yes, there was something he could do after all, but if Marelda retaliated, it could possibly be the end of him. _For Conrad and Wolfram…I'll do this…_

"WuhhhhRammm!" Yozak lifted his chin and called from where he was. The gag muffled a lot, but if he screamed as loud as he could, the sound would travel. And, hopefully, the blond soldier could hear it.

Wolfram's eyes shot open at that. "Yozak," he breathed. "He's here. You have Yozak here." Then his body collapsed again, hanging off the rope. And he did something unexpected. The sound was soft, but it was there. He laughed. He laughed again, and it was bitter because he knew it would piss off Marelda. "There's no hope for you now." Shaking with effort, he turned his face up, which was soft with tears. "Conrad will come for him…you fool."

Yozak could hear Wolfram's taunts and he rolled his eyes at it. _Idiot… Why do you believe that your own brother wouldn't come for you, too? He cares about us both._

"What?!" She slapped him hard, splitting his lip, but it didn't matter. Wolfram smiled up at her with blood in his teeth. She hit him again, but this time with the whip. It hit the top of this head and left his cheek slashed open. Wolfram screamed before he could stop himself. His body crumbled.

_Interesting,_ Wolfram could hear inside his head, but everything felt too hazy and disjointed for him to care. Shinou's comment, on the other hand, was cold and detached. Then, he shivered. The young blond could feel arms holding him, caressing his face and back without pressure. An odd numbing sensation washing over him. His body felt heavy.

_Shinou… W-What…? _

_Something changed. It's going to be different now._

Wolfram found the darkness coming to him—like a portrait splashed with black ink. Colors were fading and he was fine with it because his back felt raw, warm, and wet.

_How different?_

_It's my turn_, Shinou told him. _Just enjoy the flowers and the bed with Yuuri Heika._

* * *


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Jacob entered the blacksmith's and watched his sister at work. The young woman was clearly enjoying it, too—sweating lightly with her blue sleeves rolled up. She extended her arm and put everything into the next blow. The brown whip slashed with a sharp cracking sound. _Okay, now she's just showing off._

In the last few minutes, Wolfram's cries had become impressive. Jacob had to admit that, because the blond was a stubborn one. So, he had come to see the damage.

A smirk tugged on his lips at the sight. Marelda really had the illusion that she was in charge. _Ha!_ Like he was going to let that happen. Jacob wasn't going to take orders from little sis. Plus, they weren't exactly on the same page. And there was too much at stake. Yes, as big bro, he'd allowed her to have a little free reign because he was away, spying on the demon king's castle. But, now that he was back, she wasn't going to be calling the shots anymore. And he was going to impress that fact upon her.

"You know, Marelda, you should be thankful that _blond baby_ here" and he gestured to Wolfram with an index finger "did survive the arrow after all. I only made those for you to have them used on the _other_ stinking soldiers around him in order to eliminate them. Do you know how powerful his private guards are? All of them wield elements as well as swords! What the potion we're making calls for is the blood of an _exceedingly strong_ fire wielder. And Lord Brat is the only one powerful enough to fit that need." He picked a zit on his chin with agitation when he said it. "You have no idea how shocking it was for me to see this blond brat walking into his brother's office, like nothing was going on, with a trail of blood following him."

He eyed his sister and she promptly ignored him.

"Marelda, I told you what to do." His face slowly crushed itself into a frown. She wasn't listening at all and didn't have the decency to look worried. "As I said, those arrows were for the men around blond boy here."

"Oh?" she murmured, staring at Wolfram's passed out body suspended from the rope. "I hadn't noticed it when you told me to do that."

A dark shadow passed Jacob's face. "I'm the head of this family. And I don't care about your petty revenge or your loss of status among the aristocrats…the parties you can't go to and the female blond maou who had you thrown past the castle gates into a dung cart in your underwear. And, yes, I would have been exceedingly angry," he said with a dangerous edge while lifting up her pretty little chin for Marelda to meet his gaze, "if you'd brought me tainted fire wielder blood for this potion I'm making. It's very precise and the ingredients too valuable."

She turned her face away, not liking his tone one bit. "Yes, yes… We'll make a fortune from it."

The ex-soldier circled around the blond and frowned at the blood pooling on the floor.

"You can play with him a little longer. But I really need to bleed him soon."

"Fine…" As usual, her brother was taking all of the fun out it. Marelda readjusted her grip on the whip. Then, stopped and turned to him. "Oh, I packed up all of the buckets and large bowls since we're leaving tomorrow. So, if you're going to bleed him and start the potion, you'll have to unpack those."

He chewed on his lip angrily and crossed his arms at that.

"Forgive me for thinking ahead. But you told me that we'd have to leave right away and to take whatever I thought we'd need."

Jacob shook his brown hair with some frustration. "Okay…If I work through the next few hours, I can have the first batch made before noon. We'll test it as a poison on the orange guy. We'll write some 'disappearing ink' letters with the potion, dunk them in water to make sure they're waterproof, and get ready to leave."

Marelda shook her head in agreement. "Oh, yes… You probably want to pay those guys for their work. They're getting to be trouble." The brunette made a gesture with her thumb at the door. They were now on the other side smoking tobacco. And she wondered how much of their conversation they heard. Still, no matter. Enough money would make even the sharpest ears deaf.

Jacob shrugged. "I'll throw a bag of gold at them and let them fight it out."

Marelda smirked back. "I promised them a bonus."

"Well, their bonus can be their lives if they don't do as we say."

Marelda nodded, turned to Wolfram, uncoiled the whip, and struck him again.

Not far away, a weak cry reached the spy's ears. He tried to block it out and, instead, focus on all that he'd heard Jacob and Marelda say. He committed it to memory and prayed for the chance to tell someone. Then, Wolfram cried again and the orange haired man's heart hurt, and he made a silent prayer…for Conrad.

* * *

A thin slice of sun was starting to peek above the horizon. Thanks to the narrow whisps of clouds in the sky, the new day seemed to be filled with strokes of colors—making Yuuri think of the times he'd spent with Wolfram while the blond tried to paint his image on canvases. Wolfram loved art so much. However, now, looking back on their time together, he was beginning to wonder if Wolfram had him pose for so long just so that he could stare at him with his shirt off. The double black huffed a small laugh at the thought and rested his head against Murata's back.

"Do you want to stop for a minute, Yuuri?" Murata asked. It caught Conrad's attention. He tried not to look worried even though he actually was.

"No." Yuuri's voice sounded determined.

"Good," Conrad jumped in with a little enthusiasm. "One thing we do need to think about is forming a plan for when we get there," he said. He brought the subject up because it would give Yuuri something to mull over for awhile. But some part of him felt slightly guilty for doing it. It's far easier to form a plan if one is familiar with the building arrangements, the number of enemy to battle, and the weaponry involved. Yuuri had none of that information. And, even now, Conrad had to struggle to remember just what color the front of the farmhouse was painted.

"Which way do we go now?" Yuuri asked, pointing a finger at yet another fork in the road.

"If you'll allow me, I'll take the lead now," Conrad said. And, with an approving nod from Yuuri, he pulled out in front of them and showed the way.

"Heika," Günter called from behind, "we will certainly come to the rescue and save the day." His melodramatic words tone made Yuuri smile. The double black turned behind him to see his long-haired advisor and Gerard riding side by side. He nodded back enthusiastically. But the worried and somewhat doubtful look on Gerard's face struck home, yet again, how much his fiancé was treasured. Staring the soldier in the eye, Yuuri said, "Yes, we are bringing Wolfram back. He needs to be with his family and our daughter."

* * *

The body suspended by the rope shook slightly as dull green irises turned down to the floor. Marelda, feeling every inch the winner in this battle of wills, gloated. Whipping Wolfram had taken some effort and she was breathing a bit harder than she anticipated she would from the exertion. But, any way she looked at it, she was the victor now.

The woman grabbed the neckline to her top, pulled one string of the bow, and unloosened the top two laces. She felt better almost immediately. Her blue sleeves were rolled up on her forearms and her brown hair was held back with a faded red ribbon. This was going to be as cool as it got.

"Want a little more…_Wolfie_?"

A blond head turned up at her. The pain was obvious and etched into his handsome face. The combination of blood and sweat was now turning his hair a strawberry blond color.

He opened his mouth. There was something that he wanted to say, Marelda guessed. She was really expecting him to beg for his life, if only to live a little longer by distracting her. Maybe, Wolfram would tell her his story—why he needed to be with his family or why they needed him.

"I'll take that as a 'yes.'" With the handle of the whip, she truck Wolfram on the temple. The body convulsed and groaned. Immediately, blood ran down in a rill, caressed the curve of his cheek, and collected on his chin in droplets. The split lip and the slash marks on his face were beginning to swell.

"Marelda?" he breathed. He lifted his chin.

She stared at glassy, emerald green eyes that, for a fraction of a second, turned deep blue. She almost thought she was imagining it. The shape of the face altered slightly—seeming to be older and, if she was not mistaken, cruel.

"Blood…" The eyes closed slowly and opened again the same way. The voice, though aching with pain, forced out a tone that almost spoke of amusement. "Do you remember what I promised you in the penumbra, my dearest Marelda?"

"Penumbra?"

_What?! No…! _Her mind flashed back to that moment. The darkness. Falling. The figure behind her with one arm around her middle and the other around her neck, pulling up hard and pressing his whole body against her back. She couldn't see his face, but she felt him—a male presence—so close to her and burning with a controlled rage.

There was a faint chuckle even though his head stung and burned. He spat blood at the ground.

"Ma-rel-da?" The voice had changed into a grating whisper. But, it was more than that. It was no longer the boyish and somewhat arrogant tone of Lord Wolfram von Bielefeld. It was deeper and the words were certainly not those that he would ever use. Yozak cringed and wanted to beat his head against the wall.

_He's cracked. Wolfram couldn't handle it anymore. I thought he'd be stronger…hoped he would be. Hell…_

Taking a shaky breath and holding it, Yozak forced himself to listen. Likely as not, he'd probably hear it all over again in his nightmares should he be unfortunate enough to nap again in this stinking blacksmith's shop. For the briefest second, he imagined the blond little boy with crackers crammed into his mouth grinning at him. He could see an older "Wolfram" chasing after Yuuri in the halls and screaming "wimp" while fighting back the ghost of a smile. But he could also see a heavily bleeding Wolfram on the floor in front of Gwendal's desk—an arrow hole in his side and Conrad kneeling next to the body while fighting back tears. Yuuri had grasped Wolfram's hand, whispering words of encouragement as Gisela burst into the room.

Yozak cringed. But if this was, indeed, the emotional death of Conrad's baby brother, he'd have no other choice but to listen and, later, tell each harrowing detail should he be lucky enough to live through this. But some part of him didn't want to if Wolfram's mind was broken. For, even if they got him back by some miracle, he wouldn't be the same person.

"My promise," the blond said again. He struggled because he could feel his body failing. "Must I remind you?"

"No," she finally found herself saying. "You are a fire Mazoku. That's your element. Everyone knows that. There's no way you can be an oracle wielder, too!" She pointed an accusing finger at him.

"The penumbra," he said again as a sigh.

"Can't be! Someone must have told you!" she hissed.

"Tiles…darkness…falling…you never saw my face…" He said between clinched teeth. The eyes flashed blue again.

"No! You're just trying to make me think that this is all a mistake. That you're not a fire wielder and your blood's no good. I won't fall for that!" But her fists were clinched and there was a note of panic in her voice. If she was wrong, and had brought the fury of the maou on her family for nothing, then…

"My dearest lady…you are… a fool." A fierce smile came to him. There was an energy that Shinou pulsed through the lithe body, making it stronger. The brightness of his eyes and face made her step back and drop the whip. "As I said in the beginning, if you harm Yuuri Heika or Wolfram…a single drop of blood…" He darted his tongue at the bleeding lower lip and then spat blood at Marelda, which landed directly in the middle of her chest and oozed down. "I will be your worst nightmare."

"I won't take that. Hear me?! HEAR ME?!" She scrunched up her face, leaned forward, and screamed in frustration.

The response was a smirk, both awkward and bloody. "You will suffer, Marelda, more so than Wolfram ever did."

She shook her head "no" as Wolfram's body began to swirl with a pulsing energy, colorful lights, and ribbons of power. It fed him. Wrapped around him. Went through him. His body was lifted up to a standing position with eyes that now darkened to a deep navy that was almost black with no pupils and only bits of whites peeking out.

"This can't happen," she whispered to herself while trying to rake off with her fingers the bloodied saliva on her chest. "The stones are still there. His powers should be blocked. He can't wield with them."

Yozak's head lifted_. What is she talking about? What are those flashing lights?_ His eyes strained to see. Something was going on over there. He could, oddly enough, see that the rope was slack and could make out the top of a bloodied, blond head.

Wolfram's body turned slightly and there was a savage look to his profile. "Poor lady," he growled insincerely. "You wanted to sleep your way to power through Wolfram's father years ago. It almost worked…" The body, still supported by Shinou's power, turned again, but, this time, fully in Marelda's direction. She gasped, seeing the features change more—with a fang hanging out of one corner of this mouth. "Then, you used your brother as a spy at Blood Pledge Castle. You needed someone who could tell you Wolfram's schedule. What easier way to track down Wolfram's whereabouts than through a castle guard? Of course, your brother never knew that you really wanted to manipulate events with your oracle wielding so that you could kill Wolfram and become the next fiancé for Yuuri Heika."

"Shut up!" she yelled. "There's no way you could… I mean…" Flustered, she pushed her bangs out of her face, "…it wasn't like that…exactly."

Wolfram chuckled darkly while finishing with the line, "…And, once again…it almost worked."

Sitting rock still, Yozak's eyes widened. As mad as Wolfram had become from the pain of torture, was he, somehow, right about Marelda? It certainly sounded like it.

She found herself grinding her teeth. "Do you think you know it all?"

There was a foppish drawl coming from the body that didn't seem to match the exterior. Still bound in magic, it floated a little in her direction and, instinctively, she took another step.

_This can't be._ Marelda narrowed her eyes and tried to draw strength. Even if she didn't have it, now, she could certainly bluff. 'Then, like I told you before, everything is in motion. And you can do nothing," she leaned forward with fists clinched, "…I repeat, NOTHING, to stop me." She paced a little. "Yes, you couldn't stop this from happening," pointing at the bloody body. "So, the rest is going to happen just the way it's meant to."

"You don't understand. I didn't want to stop it."

"Why?" Disbelieving, her hands at her hips.

"That's because this moment is necessary."

"You lie!"

Eyes. Black. Dark. Wolfram eyes had shifted to ebony—whites, irises, and pupils—all the same, inky color. And they were hovering in her face. She inhaled sharply. Tied up as he was, somehow, she had wandered into a place he could reach.

Mesmerized, Marelda couldn't think or blink back.

"You never saw the 'future tile,' Marelda and I did."

"Shut up." Her voice trembled. She still couldn't move, _damn it._

A fanged, bloodied mouth twisted into a smile. "You're doomed," he rasped, leaning in with the smell of dried blood and gore. With knife-like fangs forcing her lips open, he kissed Marelda.

* * *


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Yozak's light blue eyes shot open and, with effort, he twisted his rope-bound body in the direction of the sound. He could hear what seemed to be Marelda with a scream trapped in her throat. Or, maybe, it was just a silly fantasy of his and that he'd finally cracked, too.

_Wha-?_ His eyes widened as he heard it again—more pathetic and more terrified than before. Sobs followed.

"Yozak!"

_Eh?!_

The orange haired man's head whipped in the direction of the window. The shutters, with brown paint blistered and peeling, were closed but the seal was far from tight. In fact, he could see a huge gap in between with a kind, brown eye peering across at him.

"Ahhmraa!" Yozak managed to say; which, of course, meant nothing to Conrad other than the man was, thankfully, alive but very tied up at the moment.

"Thank heavens! We're coming in to get you."

Yozak's eyes widened and he shook his head "no" violently. His ears caught the sound of Marelda again. And his eyes shot back in her direction.

"You're not alone, are you?" Conrad asked in more of a whisper this time.

He got a nod.

"Is…Is…," he almost hated to ask, "Is…Wolfram here?" Conrad's voice was excited and hopeful, not that anyone else would notice, though. His nature was to hide all strong feelings behind a calm and pleasant nature—to be as professional as possible when situations called for it. However, Conrad and Yozak had been together for so long that they didn't need much to sense the feelings of the other or to get their answers.

Sky blue eyes locked into brown. They were linked again, both strong and intimate.

"He's here? Really?"

This time, Yozak shook "yes," with small, jerky motions, but his eyes were concerned—almost frightened.

It had been awhile since Conrad had seen that look. He cringed inwardly. "It's that bad, isn't it?"

The spy turned his face to the floor and bit into the gag with his back teeth angrily. This was the start of the questions. And he wasn't prepared for the way he'd feel when he had to answer. The memories were pouring into him. They wouldn't stop. Images of his times with Conrad on the battlefield, with them both barely alive and bloodied, merged with his memories of being trapped in this place, with these ropes. Threats of death. Those filthy, laughing assassins. More scenes, flashing too fast. Screams…Wolfram and, now, Marelda. Conrad had whispered Yozak's name harshly three times before he got a response.

"Yozak, is he in this building? Is Wolfram in here with you?"

The spy shook his head again. It was weak and shaky.

"How many people are inside, counting you and Wolfram?"

Yozak thought about it and blinked his eyes four times very slowly.

"If that's all, then I'm coming in to get you." Conrad sounded determined and he was shocked when he saw Yozak shake his head "no" vigorously. He gestured with his head to the left of him.

_You've got to rescue Wolfram first! Show him that he matters. Prove it to him. The brat needs to see that he means something to you._

The pleading look worked.

There was an awkward pause on the other side followed by the words: "Then, I'll come back with the others. Hold on."

The spy breathed out a sigh of relief through his nose—which felt odd. And, for the first time in many hours, he felt slightly better. Now, if Wolfram could only hold on, too… But there was no way to tell him.

* * *

_Stop!_

Panic set in and her heartbeat rattled her body. Marelda could taste warm blood in the kiss. It was slick and wet with a slender fang scraping threateningly against the corner of her mouth. Trying not to heave, she desperately tried to move away from him—digging in her fingers into the shredded shirt. Clawing into him.

A shove.

A shove.

Whimpering, she suddenly found herself breaking free and able to move again.

"Idiot! How dare," she blustered and trying to bluff. Her voice cut off when she saw what had been kissing her and leaving dripping warm, half clotted blood.

Wolfram's face had taken on a new look. It was older, with wider cheekbones, and an angry shape to the narrow eyebrows. And the mouth, now resembled his back, with a huge, gaping slash mark that extended the right and left corners of his mouth, making an unnaturally wide, ghoulish grin showing small ruddy teeth. The skin began to fall and peel back in pinkish folds that looked like raw ham.

She covered her mouth and screamed into her hands.

Eyes, entirely black but with white pricks of light where pupils should have been, smiled at her—followed by an impish wink.

There was a deep gurgling sound coming from him, too, with each breath.

As the side door opened, Shinou dropped Wolfram's body like a marionette.

"Marelda, what the hell?" Jacob shouted, stomping into the room with a bucket, a piece of rope, and a small knife to bleed Wolfram. Her sudden scream had both alarmed him and annoyed him at once. "Stupid woman, what do you…?" Jacob stood there rooted to the spot. His sister was standing next to Wolfram with a mouth dripping with blood and a vacant expression on her face.

"What do you _think_ you're doing?" He walked over to Wolfram, grabbed a fist-full of hair that didn't have blood thickening in it, and pulled the head back.

Marelda whimpered and braced herself.

Wolfram's face was pale and soft. There was a porcelain quality to it, making it seem both perfect and fragile. There were marks on it, yes, but nothing unusual. Only his mouth, which was swollen from where she'd struck him and busted his lip, dripped with blood down to the edge of his chin.

"What do you think you were doing…acting like a vampire or something?" He searched the neck and, finding nothing, gave her an exasperated and angry look. "What kind of dark arts were you practicing?" Jacob got into her face.

"Nothing! I didn't do anything." He'd never accused her of dark magic before, and it hurt. She narrowed her eyes at him and balled up her fists.

"Yeah, right…and your mouth, cheeks, and chin just happened to be covered with the guy's blood."

She touched her face and it came away red. She gasped at her fingers.

"It's not me! He did," she began.

"He did nothing!" Jacob interrupted. "He's all tied up! He can't do anything because, if he could, he would have done something quite awhile ago…before you hit him a hundred times." He rounded on his sister. "So, quit lying!"

Marelda shook her head with brown hair falling to her shoulders when the faded ribbon fell out. "He's a monster! He's a slash-mouthed ghoul!"

Jacob stared at her again, disbelieving. "There's no slash mouth on this one. Have you been drinking or something?" He gave her breath a quick sniff. It stank of blood.

"No, you've got to believe me!"

Then, a thought struck him. "Did you give this guy something?" He pointed to Wolfram's limp body.

"No!"

"You sure you didn't drug him in any way?"

"Of course not! You said you needed him sober…"

"Oh, Marelda," Wolfram's body purred from the end of the rope. "You're wonderful…. Hmm….hit me again, okay? I've been such a bad boy."

Jacob gritted his teeth, and flung his knife and the piece of rope into the bucket. The bucket smashed into the wall seconds later. "You are such a liar, Marelda!"

"It's not me! He's the one lying!" She protested, pointing an angry finger at Wolfram. "I didn't give him anything!"

"Yeah, right," Jacob shot back angrily. "Like, you didn't use that love potion on the elder von Bielefeld to keep him in your bed and politically powerful…"

"But, I…"

"Oh, don't keep lying and saying that the man loved you. Sheesh, Marelda, I'm the one who kept making that potion for you week in and week out." Jacob knelt down and inspected Wolfram's face again. "He's no good to me if he's blown away on stuff I…I don't even know what's in it!"

"He's not drugged!" Marelda protested, now trying to scrub the red beard off of her face with a handkerchief. She rubbed until her skin was raw.

"Oh…_yes_…_Marelda_," Wolfram panted heavily. "Move lower…hmmmm…nibble my lips…please? I'll let you spank me again." A weak, sexy chuckle followed.

Jacob, blood boiling, hauled off and backhanded her.

* * *

At the edge of the woods, they assembled their group, leaving the horses a little farther on. Conrad, slightly out of breath from running back, had joined them and reported on his brief talk with Yozak, much to the relief of everyone around.

Yozak's horse was still tied up where he'd left it. And, thanks to rummaging around in the saddlebags, they'd found a crude map drawn of the property and some pencil-scrawled notes that only Conrad could decipher.

"There aren't that many of us," Yuuri pointed out. The whole farm was a bit more spread out than what he'd bargained for.

"Yes, and with those three to guard," Gerard pointed out with a bit of pleasure because he was the one who had spotted them on the road and completed the capture, "we'll be down by a few more men."

"We need to surround and capture the blacksmith's," Murata said while pointing to the map. "But, before we do that, we should make sure that there's no one else on the property who could warn Marelda. We'll need to search the buildings, one at a time, and close in on the blacksmith's shop last."

"Our men are good at that," Gerard all but bragged. It gave Yuuri some confidence that he hadn't felt in awhile.

"Then, you take your men to the farmhouse, the storage building, and the barn." He pointed to Gerard. And the soldier nodded hesitantly. "And we," he gestured to the rest of them, "will search the stables and then move on to the blacksmith's shop," Murata said. "Follow us when you can."

"But, shouldn't we all combine our forces together and attack the blacksmith's at once?" Gerard asked. His plan made more sense to him.

Murata regarded Gerard for a second and his glasses flashed. Yes, he had suspected that Gerard had more than just the passing fancy for Wolfram. Now, it was only too clear: the tone, the look in the eyes, the body language. It all spoke of something more than simple respect for a higher ranking officer. Murata's dark eyes darted to Yuuri, who was suddenly looking down at the ground.

"It would be better to have some backup in case we…don't succeed…" Murata tried to say it in all seriousness but smirked inwardly to himself when he saw a small grin appear on Yuuri's face. _It's about time he realized._ "We'll need the cavalry—and by that I mean 'you'—if things don't go well. We'll be relying on you to follow us as quickly as you can." That made Gerard perk up. The chance to save Wolfram, the Great Sage, and his king fed his ego a little. Gerard gave a stronger nod.

"If what Yozak said is true, there's only himself and three other people in the blacksmith's," Conrad said with the sage giving him a quick "Don't just undo what I just set up" glare. But Conrad quickly added, "However he could also be mistaken—someone else could be there and heavily armed." Conrad looked at Gerard, too. Yes, even Conrad had caught on to the sage's little plan.

"But, inside, one of them is Wolfram!" Yuuri said, a smile in his voice.

"Shall we go, then?" Günter asked. Everyone nodded in agreement.

They were off.

* * *

Wolfram sat in the field of flowers and watched the scene play itself over and over again. While he was there, he discovered some interesting things. He could walk to his right, along a narrow animal trail, for quite awhile and end up exactly where he was before. Space folded in on itself. So, this was, indeed, a very small world.

He picked up a rock and threw it at the sun. The rock disappeared into the ball of light and reappeared at his feet.

Wolfram picked a few flowers and placed one behind his ear. He could sniff them, too, and enjoyed the strange, spicy fragrance. He tried eating one. But, it had no real taste or texture.

Then, a though occurred to him. He looked to his left and saw Shinou and the Original Sage sitting together. He smirked to himself and set off in their direction with a devilish little swagger. Strangely enough, Wolfram could do it. And, not long after, he found himself sitting with them.

Wolfram made himself comfortable, shifting his lower body so that he could sit cross legged at Shinou's elbow. Directly across from Shinou was the sage. His face was a long horse face with equally long and dark hair, not like the Murata of today at all. Shinou, was wearing simpler, casual clothes. Wolfram wasn't sure if Shinou and the sage snuck away from the military camp to be alone together or not. But, come to think of it, the more he examined the sage, the more he noted the simple stitching and common materials that made up this clothing. Neither one really resembled much of the portraits that he'd seen in the Blood Pledge Castle Gallery. So, this was either a casual date or a getaway—maybe a bit of both.

The sage leaned back and stared up into the sky. He smiled with the sunshine on his face. Shinou, in turn, stole glances and tried to look casual to cover it up.

So, this was what they were like together. Wolfram smiled again as he felt the memory replay itself once more.

"I discovered this place when I was on a military campaign three years ago," Shinou said smoothly. "I'm glad that it hasn't changed."

"Hmmm," the sage practically hummed with approval, stroking the beautiful flowers before him with a delicate hand. "But you know, Lord Shinou, that change is a part of life. For better or worse, Fortune's Wheel turns. Had this place not been here, it still would have lived in your heart."

"My heart…?" He picked a flower and placed it behind the sage's left ear. Wolfram was surprised to see that the sage shied away a little at the man's touch.

_Is he afraid? Why?_

The flower sat there behind a delicate ear. The contrast against the dark hair was beautiful and, as ever, Wolfram found himself missing Yuuri and wondering what he was up to. Was he safe? His soul ached at the thought of not knowing until Shinou spoke up again.

"I could slap you right now and make you my fiancé," Shinou murmured, almost to himself. His blue eyes had a hard edge to them now.

"Always wanting your way…" There was a hint of playfulness in his tone.

"If you don't ask, you don't get."

The sage shook his beautiful head, dark hair waved as he did it. "We've had this conversation before," the sage said, now losing all mirth in his voice. "If you slap me now, I will deny it ever happened. You have no witnesses."

Shinou pretended to be interested in one of the larger flowers near his hand. He leaned in and examined the passionate colors. "And why would that be? Would it be so awful to spend the rest of this lifetime with me?"

The sage took the flower from behind his ear and stared down into it kindly. It really was a beautiful flower—speckled orange and red. "Yes it would." He sighed to himself and glanced up at Shinou. It was almost wistful. "Because you're a cheater."

Shinou laughed at that. "Are you saying that I'm incapable of being faithful to a spouse, my dear sage?"

"I think that it would be asking too much of you…even the hope would be too much," the sage said in all seriousness, but it was to himself. A sad smile crept onto his lips. He was holding in so much. Wolfram understood that feeling and had lived with it for far too long himself.

"Then, I must simply prove you wrong."

"And I will prove myself right."

Shinou leaned in and Wolfram leaned in, too. He just had to. This was getting good.

"Sage?" He motioned the man forward with a simple gesture of the hand.

"Hm?"

The Original King stroked the soft face, which got him a surprised look, and then, just as quickly as he could, Shinou slapped the sage on the cheek. The expression changed to horror.

"I'll expect to see you in my tent tonight."

The sage shook his head—as though he were hearing things—and rubbed the soreness from his cheek. "_How_ could you…? _Why_ did you…?"

"I said, _tonight_ and as my secret fiancé …"

"I am not yours," the sage complained. "How childish… of you…" But Wolfram could see that it was all false. There was a glimmer of happiness and desire in that face. "Just an ordinary day, huh, Shinou?" Wolfram murmured to himself. "Somehow, I don't think so." He folded his arms across his chest.

"So, here's what I expect you to bring with you tonight…when you come to me." Shinou's voice had a dark and sexy charm. Wolfram couldn't stand it. So, grinning like the blond devil that he knew himself to be at times, Wolfram leaned in to hear the list of what the sage was to bring. Before he knew it, he was blushing wildly. _Oh, you did not just say…!!_

"Lord Shinou!" The sage gasped with a tomato face and eyes unnaturally wide. He just couldn't believe what he heard.

"Bring it all along, my secret fiancé."

"Spoiled!"

"Very…"

"Pervert."

"Yes, thanks."

And, before they knew it, three pairs of voices started to laugh.

* * *

The side door to the blacksmith's burst open with a swift kick from Conrad's boot. It collapsed inwardly and hung weakly off one rusty hinge. Early morning light flooded in along with Conrad, three of their soldiers plus Murata, Günter, and Yuuri following up the rear.

"I think it's this way…I…" Conrad stopped in his tracks with the sight. Light with particles of dust floating in it hit a lone figure ahead of him. Wolfram was only two feet in front, on his knees with a houseki stone necklace and wrists bound in houseki stones, too. He was dangling from a rope by his wrists that had become raw with bloody tracks down his forearms. His blond hair was now half bloodied red, as though he'd dyed his hair. The white shirt was shredded and soaked in red. The head was hanging down, face cast in shadow, while the floor was spattered with large droplets and small pools of thickening blood.

In his memory, it was etched—forever.

The others had stopped just behind Conrad, exactly the same way. He didn't even notice them.

"Wolf-ram…?" Yuuri's voice was hollow, and his eyes welled up with tears. He blinked, unseeingly—unable to accept it—and a tear streaked down. How he could cry so quickly was beyond him. Then, Yuuri came to himself and his head shot up at the two figures near the opposite doorway.

Yuuri only allowed himself to be shocked for a moment at the sight of Jacob standing next Marelda. _The guard…the gossip… I hate him!_ There was movement at his shoulder even before he could shout the words "Get them!" But he did it somehow.

Within seconds, hands shot out of nowhere with swords extending from them, in the direction of the brother and sister.

Conrad had the tip of his sword placed to Jacob's throat when he felt a hand holding his wrist back. There was a black sleeve attached and Yuuri was saying his name repeatedly.

Conrad turned to him—eyes burning with fury. He was breathing hard.

This was his honor. His moment. He had to avenge the wrong that was done to his family—the blond baby that he rocked at night and held in his arms, chasing monsters away in the dark. These were monsters! How could Yuuri interfere with this? But he was, just the same. He was.

"Forget them," Yuuri said. And before Conrad could say anything, the double black continued with "Yozak needs you. Find him."

Conrad's expression changed in an instant. But, then his eyes moved back to Wolfram.

"That was an order, Conrad." He hated to do it. But there was no other way. And, with a cold nod, the soldier took off in search.

Turning back Yuuri shouted, "Hold them!" with a tone that the Maou usually used. And, for a second, he thought he was going to change, switch places with the Maou inside of him. But, oddly, it didn't happen.

Yuuri eyed the men around him. Even though he could still feel the bloodlust in the room, he also knew that he would be obeyed.

Marelda and Jacob could do nothing more than stand there and look helpless as the soldiers bound their wrists together with rope. But there was also the embarrassment of being caught and the frustration of knowing they'd not get a second chance. And, for Jacob, it would be worse: an ex-soldier, deserter, and plotter as well as "would be" assassin. His main issue being that he failed to kill his target both times.

Dark eyes stared in hatred at the pair and then turned away.

"Günter?" Yuuri called as his onyx eyes found Wolfram again.

"Yes, Majesty?" Günter came forward in dramatic fashion. However his tone had lost all of its honeyed and engaging qualities. He was serious and seemed to radiate the same hate that all of them felt. But he also came across as more controlled and, for that, Yuuri felt a small measure of relief.

Putting a hand on a soldier's shoulder, Yuuri gently pushed him back. He needed to see better. Then, he hastily removed his black jacket and let it drop.

"Wolfram?" Yuuri said gently, putting his hands on the barely warm porcelain face and lifting away the blond and red hair for a better look. He cringed to see the slash marks on a swelling cheek and the busted lower lip.

Emerald eyes remained closed.

Still kneeling he removed the necklace and tossed it against the nearest wall. The next thing to go was the leather strap with the dangling houseki stones. Someone's hand reached in to help. Just who it was, he neither new nor cared. The double black swatted it away. He didn't want help. He needed to do this. Once Yuuri had the heavy strap in his hands, he pitched it in the direction of a dented bucket not far from where he was kneeling. The stones on the strap clattered into it—knocking the bucket on its side. It fell over to reveal a knife and piece of rope. Yuuri took the remains of the shirt, unbuttoning the thick collar and ripping away a piece of heavily soaked fabric still dangling, and simply dropped it all to the floor.

Murata couldn't stop himself from gasping as he saw the raw and bleeding back. He cringed and turned away. "Shibuya, it looks bad."

"Oh, Wolfram," Yuuri groaned. Gently, he put his arms around the blond, one at the waist and one lightly around the shoulders, and held him. He was breathing. That was good. Blood immediately began to soak into Yuuri's clothes, but he didn't care.

"Günter, cut him down now."

With a nod, Günter took his sword and, with a single flick, the rope tore itself in two.

Yuuri tightened his grip and Wolfram collapsed against him with a sigh—feeling his body's arms finally freed. "Please wake up for me…please?" Yuuri buried his face in the blond's shoulder. It reeked of blood and sweat. The sunflower scent was gone. Yuuri gripped him harder, feeling his heart racing. He whispered, as though it were a secret just the two of them shared, "Don't leave me, okay? I love you so much. I want you to wake up and hear that from me."

Then, Wolfram's legs shifted. The double black glanced over to see Günter pulling the ropes off of the blond's legs. He gave a sincere look of "thanks" for that.

Conrad and Yozak came around the corner. Yozak's body still ached deeply with every step. He had one arm around Conrad's strong shoulders. Both men looked on with worry at Yuuri and Wolfram.

"You shouldn't have come for me first," Yozak complained quietly.

"I was ordered." Conrad's tone was flat.

"I see…" he said with a shrug.

"I'm sorry, Yozak, but…this situation is…"

"He hasn't been like that for very long," Yozak continued quietly in Conrad's ear, giving his shoulder a reassuring hug. "He was…awake…just before you came in… Well, sort of."

"What do you mean by _sort of_?" Conrad asked hesitantly.

Yozak picked his words carefully. He'd be doing a lot of that in the near future. "Hallucinating." He scratched his head and added, "Somehow, I think it scared Marelda. I could hear her…really upset… The rest was just nonsense between the two."

None of it mattered at the moment. There was a part of Conrad that couldn't take his eyes off of Yuuri and Wolfram. His godson was sitting on the floor, now, cross legged with a bare chested Wolfram in his lap wrapped in Yuuri's black jacket. His blond head rested on the double black's shoulder. Yuuri was rocking Wolfram very gently the way he would do with Greta each time she was sick with a sniffle or fever. A small, selfish part of Conrad wanted to take Wolfram and hold him, too, just like his baby days. But Conrad knew full well that Wolfram would prefer to be nowhere else but in Yuuri's arms. And that thought, alone, was his greatest comfort.

"Someone needs to be calm in this situation. Günter, I pick you," Yuuri said, knowing full well that he, himself, had lost all perspective long ago. In fact, just about everyone had. "Make sure that Marelda and that 'Jacob person' get back to the castle safely for trial." He gritted out the words while struggling to shift his weight on the floor so that Wolfram could be in a more comfortable position. He stopped when Wolfram whimpered.

"I am honored, Majesty," Günter said with a bow and started issuing orders.

"There's no way Wolfram can ride like this," Yozak whispered into Conrad's ear and got a nod of agreement.

"Do you think that Connie will lend us her cart?"

"Yeah," Yozak said, "the inn's not far from here. I'm sure she'll help."

"How do you know?"

"Because she told me to stay away from the Meiger farm. So, all I have to do is tell her that she was right all along."

Conrad eyed Yozak a little. "Are you sure you're strong enough to ride?"

"Yeah, I'll live. Let's go."

* * *

On his own in the field of flowers, Wolfram was balancing a bright yellow inchworm on the tip end of his finger when he felt a presence at his elbow. Without looking up, he said, "Welcome back, Shinou."

The older blond grinned at him, watching with a paternal air. "Having fun?"

"Enlightening," Wolfram said almost smugly.

Shinou, dressed in is usual "fineness," yawned and stretched luxuriously atop the thick carpet of red and orange. He struck Wolfram as almost cat-like. Something was up. Yes, something was definitely up.

"Well, it's time for you to go."

Wolfram's face fell at that. "You mean…? Seriously?" He ran his hand nervously through his bangs.

"Did everything work the way you planned?" Then, he chewed his lower lip a little at that. "Come to think of it, you never really let me in on the plan. Care to tell?"

Shinou rolled his eyes. "In a word…_no_."

"What?!" Wolfram's jaw was hanging at that. "After all I…" He could hear himself growl and watched as Shinou's eyes filled with mirth. He really was an inconsiderate asshole after all. "Then, what am I returning to…life or death?"

Shinou grinned at him. "Now, that would be telling, wouldn't it?"

* * *


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Yuuri sat in the back of the old cart on a pile of empty potato sacks and canvas bags. For the soldiers, it was a surprising thing to see—a king, _their king_, humbling himself by sitting in the back of a commoner's dusty cart. Even Gerard had to admit to himself that, if things had been different and he were Yuuri Heika, Wolfram would have been in the cart on his own while he looked on, in worry, of course, from his noble steed at the blond's side. It was just how things were done in this world.

Yuuri lifted up his arms and said, "Hand him to me." Murata climbed into the cart next to Yuuri and watched with trepidation as Conrad, with his baby brother cradled against his chest, moved his hands lovingly and passed the body over to his godson.

In the early morning light, Wolfram looked frail and ashen, his torso wrapped in the black coat that covered his bare chest. He groaned weakly with the movement of being passed into Yuuri's arms.

Noticing the wetness, Conrad stared down at his palms. They were smeared red and bloody. He looked haunted, brown eyes distant and tired.

Yozak pulled out a clean handkerchief, wetted it with some water from an old wineskin that was given to him by Connie, and handed it over. "It's best to clean up. We've got quite a ride a head of us to Wolfram's uncle's place." He then turned to look at Connie. She was sitting in the driver's seat with the reins in her hands gripped so tightly that her knuckles were white. There were so many important people here with her in one place—all upset, angry. And, as an oracle wielder herself, there was always the possibility that they'd lash out. She glanced back and noticed the small circle of soldiers headed by a tall man in a white flowing cape with lilac hair and violet eyes. He seemed to be in charge of the prisoners. In town, they'd gotten two horses. Now, back at the farm, they'd tied both prisoners up—hoisting them up on the horses followed by threats should they cause trouble. But, Yuuri's words were clear on that. "Günter, should they try to escape, I'll leave them to your discretion." Connie heard the man say darkly, "And should that be…death?"

The soldiers guarding Jacob and Marelda murmured approval amongst themselves as the prisoners glared back defiantly.

Saying it loud enough for everyone to hear he repeated, "_Your_ discretion." Yuuri locked eyes with Jacob and threw him a look that would easily fly in the face of his reputation for being a peace-loving wimp. It was more than wrathful. It was grave, dangerous.

That was five minutes ago. Now, the double black was sitting cross legged with Wolfram's body stretched out with the length of the cart. The sacks made a thin mattress. And Yuuri was using his own thigh as Wolfram's pillow.

Emerald eyes remained closed, but his breathing improved a little.

Absently, Yuuri stroked Wolfram's hair—gently pulling the strands through his fingers taking the knots out. The blood had dried and the gash on the head was starting to heal into a thick, repulsive scab that threatened to fester.

"What did they do to you?" Yuuri wondered aloud, toying lightly with a blond curl.

Murata, sitting near him, cringed and decided to ignore the question. He had lived too many lifetimes: Bled to death on the battlefield as a flag bearer, knifed in the heart over a stupid game of cards, and, in another life, he had been captured as a soldier only to be tortured and humiliated in ways he could never talk about. At the time, he'd wished that he had not been reborn. Why live again only to suffer through such torment? But that pain was nothing compared to the night, seventy years later, he died in childbirth without ever holding his newborn son.

"Yuuri," Murata said and rubbed his friend's shoulder a little for support. He got a weak smile as a "thank you."

"Let's go," Yuuri said to Connie. The Mazoku woman gave him a nod with frightened eyes and the old cart lurched forward as well as everything in it.

Yuuri and Murata felt their bodies pitch and roll with the movement.

Wolfram turned his head and screamed.

It was broken and hoarse, but a scream nonetheless. He raised his chin and thrashed. In seconds, his head started bleeding, leaving bloodied smears down Yuuri's leg.

Terrified, Yuuri restrained the blond's head.

"Stop!" Murata shouted at Connie.

Everything came to a halt, and then they rolled backwards a little until they could fully stop.

Sobs were trapped in Wolfram's throat with the next shift. The double black stroked his face to calm him.

"His back's too raw for this," Murata said and then got an uncomfortable glare from everyone for using the word "raw," even if it was true. The sage shrugged it off. "Put him on his stomach."

"I'll hold him," Yuuri said and reached down for his fiancé. "I don't mind doing it until we can reach Waltorana's estate. It's the nearest place to find a healer."

"The whole trip over there?" Murata said incredulously. He was busy helping Yuuri with scooping up the blond rag doll.

"Yes."

The sage looked at Yuuri and thought_, You sure have changed. Not long ago, you would have only felt pity for Wolfram instead of this…which hurts much more, huh?_

"Okay, hold him. Better yet, we'll take turns holding him," the sage suggested, deciding to go along with his friend's plan. "When you get tired, hand him to me."

Yuuri turned his onyx eyes in Murata's direction. "No."

* * *

Wolfram found himself free falling in a dark place. His hair was blowing away from his face and he could sense the presence of someone in front of him. Quickly enough, Wolfram could make out Shinou.

"Like it?" he asked, gesturing all around him.

"Where is…this?" Wolfram asked. All he could see was pitch black with the exception that he was, somehow, able to just make out Shinou in his usual, somewhat gaudy, clothes being horribly windblown.

There was a deep, male chuckle at that. "Let's just call it the space between."

"Between?" He looked around. "Between what?" followed by a disbelieving "humph." Wolfram squared his shoulders and folded his arms across his chest at the ridiculous explanation and then leaned forward like a school boy who thought his teacher an idiot.

"It's a plane of existence. And, to reach this place requires esoteric knowledge."

Wolfram scratched his head at that. He'd lost the man entirely after the words, "It's a…" The rest of it slipped through his mind. Wolfram rolled his eyes. What was he so worried about? This just had to be another trick of Shinou's—another dream or some kind of trance or something. That's all.

"This can't be…real."

Shinou grinned.

"Wha-? It is?!" Then, a frightening thought occurred to him. "Do we…ever… hit bottom?" He glanced down. There was an endearing, childish look on Wolfram's face now with his mouth drawn into a little "o" at the possibility that something could possibly do him harm. Shinou rested his hands on his hips and smiled paternally. The face brought back memories of Rufus handing him a little green blanket with a smaller version of himself wrapped tightly inside. True, Wolfram was not his first born or even his favorite descendant. But he was very much loved and needed. _A friend._ The First King thought about it a little more. He hadn't had too many friends—lovers, yes, but not friends. Over time, maybe they could find a way to be just that.

"I'm actually giving you a choice, Wolfram."

The blond cocked his head to one side and gave a dubious look. "Please forgive me, but you are not the type of person to allow others to choose."

"But I'm giving you options…right now."

Wolfram's first response was to snort at that. It surprised Shinou a little. And irritated him a bit more than that. Shinou really thought the younger blond would be honored. Considering the situation, and his generous mood, the king elected to ignore it and move on.

"So, do you go left…or right?" Shinou asked cheerfully.

"There is no 'left' or 'right' here, Shinou." He almost chortled at the thought. He even went so far as to turn his head to emphasize his point. "So, this was a trick after all." A pompous tone was creeping in.

"I speak the truth. There is…there really is…from a certain point of view." Shinou raised his palms. Each had a bowl with water.

"Water-mirrors?" Wolfram said. He glanced down at the moving images.

Shinou was glad. He finally had the young man's attention. "I'm not giving you a choice between life and death, young one." His trademark smirk was back. "I'm giving you a choice between living and existing. One will feed your spirit, giving you safety… and one will feed your goals, giving you glory."

Wolfram held his breath.

"One will mean that you must learn to hold on. And one will mean that you must learn to let go."

The images moved in the water.

"Which is the greater dream? And which is the greater good?"

The Original King felt emerald eyes upon him.

"Decide."

Wolfram nodded.

Then, Shinou's blue eyes took on a mischievous gleam to them. "And, after that, I need a favor…"

* * *

He was somewhere. His body was moving forward and he could feel the rumble of wooden wheels on the road. Wherever Wolfram was, his back felt like strips of pain with an icy sliced edge and every jostle reminded him of what suffering felt like, his open skin raking against fabric. A dip in the road jarred everything. He took a sharp breath and held it. But there was something else, too. His chest was warm. He was being held, almost bridal style, in someone's lap who was sitting upright and cross-legged. Wolfram's body was positioned so that part of his chest leaned against it—something warm. It was definitely another body, he thought vaguely. He could feel it breathe, the chest rising and falling. The side of Wolfram's face rested on a shoulder. And, with his body in this position, his ribs ached like hell. Still…

Wolfram opened his eyes.

"Well, it looks like someone's awake," Yozak said cheerfully from his horse which followed behind Conrad. The pair rode their horses to the left side of the cart.

Yuuri looked down into his arms. "Welcome back," he said as a smile came to his face. Wolfram watched him with tired, half-lidded eyes. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen—a smile, a true smile at him from Yuuri.

Wolfram tried to stretch a little but found himself being held securely in strong arms that had experienced a lot of batting practice. The blond glanced down only to discover that he wasn't wearing a shirt and his body was wrapped up tightly in Yuuri's black jacket.

Gerard gave his horse a gentle kick and urged it to trot a bit faster. He wanted to see Wolfram for himself. Yes, his idol was awake. He breathed a sigh of relief.

Yuuri turned his head at the trotting sound and saw Gerard's horse pulling up on the opposite side—walking on the grass instead of the road_. I can't blame him for wanting to know. And, while I'm at it, I suppose I'd better give credit where it's due._

"Wolfram?'

"Hm?"

"As you can see, we rescued Yozak," he said and gestured to him. Yozak gave a quick wink. "And Conrad was the one to kick the door in to get you."

At that, Wolfram wore a weak smile. His head was still leaning heavily against Yuuri. But, his emerald eyes were on his brother. "Thank you," he said quietly and got a warm smile in return.

"Günter cut you down from _that rope_." He gritted out the last two words. "And, right now, he's in charge of the prisoners and the men guarding them."

"You let them live," Wolfram said with a bitter edge. Then he leaned against Yuuri and heard his heartbeat speed up at the words. _But, of course you would. It's just like you._ "Still, I understand." He blocked out the images of Marelda taunting him and beating him with the whip until the blood ran down. It would do no good to dwell on it anyway. Yuuri was Yuuri.

The double black moved Wolfram's body against him so that he would be more comfortable. "I know that if things were reversed…"

"They would be dead," Wolfram finished for him. His tone was flat.

"I know…I…" Yuuri's face fell.

Glancing up, Wolfram thought the double black was going to cry. "Don't worry, Yuuri," Wolfram said quietly. "That's the difference between us. I don't expect you to be like me anymore."

"Wolfram…" The tears came anyway. He wanted to be strong and deny what his heart wanted to do, but they slid down and hugged the curve of his cheeks anyway.

"Don't cry," the blond sighed. His throat hurt, but Yuuri's tears hurt him more. "You are dark," Wolfram rasped and raised a tired, pale hand to stroke a piece of raven hair between his fingers. "And I am light." Wolfram ignored the pain that was building. "You are _hope_ and I am _reality_." He smiled a little at that only to notice Yuuri's shattered look. With a finger, he traced the wet trail of a tear down the double black's cheek. "You attract people to you…and I…push them away…" He leaned his head against the one he loved best of all in this world.

"I want too much…and Yuuri wants too little…"

Emerald eyes closed. A tear streaked down, but it wasn't his own. It fell from Yuuri's face.

_We're sharing the same tear…_

"Wolfram?" Yuuri said gently in his ear.

"I want…" Wolfram began.

"Yes, yes… I know what you want."

"I don't think so." The pain was bad now…really bad. He felt cold, too, as though he'd never feel warm ever again. Wolfram gritted his teeth together to hide how excruciating it was. He shook. Maybe, he could breathe through it. _Shinou told me I was going to recover, but…something feels…wrong… Did he lie to me?_

"You want a wedding—the biggest, the best royal wedding Shin Makoku has ever seen."

Wolfram scrunched up his eyes and held onto Yuuri with shaking hands. _Hurts… This hurts… _The world was fading to black, colors merging into darkness. He pressed himself deeper into Yuuri's shoulder. "No, I want…"

"What, then?" The blond could hear it. Yuuri's tone changed to one of concern. "What do you want…?" _To break the engagement now? An annulment?_

Fading.

"To die… in your arms."

Wolfram's body slumped onto Yuuri's chest. Yuuri pulled away in shock. The blond's head rolled, now supported by the double black's right arm.

"Wolfram? _Wolf?!_"

He shook him.

Nothing.

The head and neck were bent back like a puppet.

Yuuri could feel his heartbeat rattle his body. "No," he gasped, a hand to his mouth. Panicked, he squeezed his eyes shut and shouted, "STOP!" With that, the cart lurched to a halt and everyone following stared at them.

Conrad pulled back on the reigns, tossed them over to Yozak and jumped off. Startled, the horse pranced a little, but watched his master circle around to the cart and place a hand on Wolfram.

"Wolfram?" Yuuri said the name, his tone terrified.

"Unwrap him," Murata ordered and watched as his friend put Wolfram down and gingerly removed his jacket. It was full of blood. The material had been keeping most of it in. Yuuri looked down at himself only to see that his dark trousers were practically maroon with seeped in blood.

"I should have felt it… He was in my lap… I…"

Murata grabbed Yuuri's shoulder desperately. "Heal him! You've got to."

"I'm…I'm not sure if I can… I can't always…I mean…_do_ things when I want to," Yuuri stammered. His face took on the shape of a frightened little boy. The sage narrowed his eyes at that. It was time to give his friend a mental slap. "_Yuuri_," Murata growled, "I know what it feels like to bleed to death. There are worse ways to go, but still…" It was a cruel thing to say, the sage knew, but he hoped that it would get Yuuri to pluck up the courage.

Yuuri hovered his hands over Wolfram's back. "Please work…Please work…" He chanted it like a mantra under his breath. Instantly, there was a green glow and some of the lighter cuts began to scab over and heal.

At some point, Conrad had moved his hand from Wolfram to his godson. Just when, Yuuri didn't know. The double black could feel Conrad's hand on his shoulder—urging him on. He could just imagine the face that he was making. Yuuri couldn't look. He wasn't brave enough.

_Oh, no…_ His head shot up. "Why isn't this working?" Yuuri wailed, not bothering to mask his panic.

"What?" Conrad asked. His brown eyes searched the body before him.

"Wait! Let me see." The sage said, kneeling forward to observe Yuuri's efforts. Then, Murata turned his eyes back to a very disturbed Günter , the soldiers beyond him, and, finally, rested them on the two prisoners who were both tied and gagged. The hate burned in Murata. There was something almost primitive in the look and it shocked everyone who saw it. "She rubbed aggrieving oils onto the whip."

"What?" said Conrad. "I've never heard…"

"A very old form of torture. Oils mixed with certain herbs to make wounds resistant to healing magic. And, maybe, she added some ground Houseki stone powder...maybe…" For a moment, he bit his lower lip to keep his mind sharp and then continued with "To know for certain, we'd have to analyze a sample."

"If I try really hard, I can only heal the small cuts," Yuuri said, green light pulsing. He turned to Conrad and then Murata, begging for help. "Tell me what to do!"

The world seemed to narrow as Murata got out of the cart. Yuuri could feel the cart tip and groan as he jumped off. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Conrad moving away. The horse with Yozak on it, turned and made an about face—watching the group as the words "Give us all your water! Maybe we can wash the wounds," drifted vaguely to him.

Yuuri tried again. The green glow pulsed from his open palms.

Wolfram was on his stomach, by all appearances bathed in his own blood. His back looked like it had been ripped open by some animal and the red flow shined up at him as it leaked over the sides.

_Something else…I've got to try something…else__!_ Yuuri's hands hovered over with a green light that pulsed dimly with each sob that came to him. "Help me," he whispered under his breath. "Please help me." He couldn't breathe. His heart beating hard. "I'll do anything you want. I'll be anything you want. Just help me in this moment. I can't do it alone. Not without you… And I need him with me. I know that now. You have to help."

Running. There was the sound of feet pounding the dirt road, kicking up dust and pebbles.

Murata and Conrad ran back with canteens and bags of water sloshing.

Yuuri's head lowered. "I can't do this…not alone… Please… Just one of us is not enough."

Conrad's jaw dropped. "Yuuri…?"

The sage nodded to himself. "I know what's going on."

The green lights pulsed and dimmed from Yuuri's palms, threatening to go out.

Yuuri concentrated on Wolfram. The baby who set the grass on fire. The toddler who took joy in swinging a little wooden sword. The debonair looking youth who gave his attention to every beautiful face, but not him. The kiss on the desk. The kiss on the steps under the stars. The bickering. The arguments. Another kiss. The tear streaking from Wolfram's left eye while lanterns swung in the tree and fireworks burst in the sky.

"Beg of you…help me…because…I love him," Yuuri shut his eyes and another tear fell down.

The wind hit them hard. Yuuri stretched his body, tilting his chin to the winds and bands of energy that pushed against him. His hair lengthened to his shoulders and his face grew broader. Clouds gathered in the sky and a flash of lightning lit up the eyes that now had narrow slits.

The pounding, blue energy pushed Murata and Conrad away from the cart. They stumbled back, surprised at being shoved away.

Now, only Wolfram and the Maou Heika were together. Wolfram's blond and crimson hair blew wildly as the maou hovered his hands. A fierce green glow laced with gold appeared. The wounds stopped bleeding. They began to close and heal over with thick crisscrossed scabs. He placed his hands over Wolfram's head and the injury began to reheal. The maou stroked the stands of hair softly as Wolfram took a shaky breath, followed by another. In minutes, he turned his blond head in the maou's direction and sighed with relief.

The winds suddenly died down. Once again, Murata approached the cart with Conrad at his side only to see that the maou's hands were passing over the pools of blood—making them dry and flake away in red powder. Wolfram's upper body was clean, as was the inside of the cart.

The maou's hand was resting against Wolfram's cheek as he turned and noticed Murata's presence with distain. "You…" the maou said in an admonishing tone. It was the first time that the two of them had met since Yuuri had confronted him about Wolfram and had learned about the string of fate that connected him to the blond.

Murata expected this. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry isn't always enough. Be glad that I'm merciful because this was never meant to happen."

Murata shot him a surprised look. He knew, or seemed to know, what he'd done—what Shinou had done—maybe. Exactly how much, Murata didn't even want to begin to guess.

Conrad blinked at it all. Why was the sage in trouble? If anything, he'd helped to rescue Wolfram.

The maou looked down at Wolfram with his handsome black hair falling forward as he pulled the blond back into his arms. The maou's whole body was glowing green, now, with the healing magic flowing through him once more.

"Beloved," he murmured softly. The maou ran a thumb across Wolfram's slashed cheek and lower lip. The injuries disappeared immediately. He held him close and cupped his hand against a deathly pale face while he watched the dark circles fade.

The maou turned his gaze to Conrad. With some frustration edging his voice, he said, "I truly wanted my other _self_ to handle everything. But this was too important. And I was needed."

"I understand," Conrad said with a smile coming to him. This wasn't the first time he'd seen his little brother in Maou Heika's arms. But, this time, it was much more loving and tender. Then again, Yuuri had changed, too.

"It certainly wasn't love at first sight." Then, he almost chuckled at the thought as well as the memories of their first meeting and duel. "But my judgment for you, my fair young one, is life. And it is exactly the same judgment that I made for you back in the lab when the equipment failed and you needed me. My feelings haven't changed." The maou pushed a thick strand of blond hair behind Wolfram's ear. "You were never meant to die in this manner, and I won't allow you to."

Murata let go of the breath he'd been holding only to see another frown coming from the demon king. "And you," the deep and dramatic voice said, "sage or not, friend to this realm or not… You will never dabble in affairs of the red thread. For, when my other self finally matures, he will become…me. And I do not think you will want to make me displeased in future."

Confusion spread and even Yozak couldn't puzzle out what the Maou Heika was talking about.

"Maou Heika?" Conrad said politely. "You and Yuuri are…?"

"Why do you think the accident in Anissina's lab turned Wolfram into a child? I am both young and old…a young magic and an old magic…innocence and experience. There is no difference between Wolfram quickly 'growing up' and me having 'two selves.' Because Yuuri will, gradually, merge into the person who sits before you."

Conrad narrowed his eyes in thought, puzzling it out. "I think I understand."

"Good," he said and turned back to Murata, "and someone else should also understand what I'm talking about and respect it."

Now, Conrad could only guess that Murata had, somehow, displeased the king greatly through words or deeds. But, beyond that, it was anyone's guess. And he decided it was none of his business anyway.

"My apologies again, Maou Heika," he teen with glasses said seriously, followed up with a low and profound bow.

Holding Wolfram's body protectively once more, and tucking the blond head under his chin, Yuuri's form began to shrink—hair shortening and the face becoming boyish once again.

The double black, with Wolfram still clutched in his arms, collapsed in the back of the cart with the blond on top of him and a thin smile.

* * *


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

_Whack._

_Skin ripping away._

_A woman laughing._

'_Someone is screaming.__ It's…me…! What's happened to my body? There's blood on the floor.'_

'_Shinou, what do I do now?'_

"_Endure."_

"_Help me!__" _

'_Was that Yuuri? Where is he?!'_

"_Which is the greater dream? And which is the greater good?"_

_The Original King._

"_Decide."_

_Yuuri is my greater dream. Yuuri is my greater good. For once, I'll put myself last._

_Whack._

_Tears of blood._

_Forgive me, Yuuri._

Wolfram startled awake, breathing hard. "What the…?" Then he turned his head back and forth sleepily, trying to process it all while he rubbed his eyes against his folded forearms. A small, piggy snort escaped him as he realized that he was in bed and lying flat on his stomach. He shifted his legs a little. They were sore and starting to cramp terribly from being in one position for all that time. But the feeling was nothing compared to the ache in his ribs and the strips of fire on his back. It was the burning sensation that woke him, he decided, and not the nightmare. Only fools were afraid of nightmares.

"Wolfram?" said a quiet voice to his right in the dark. It was deeply concerned.

"Hm?"

He blinked at the figure that had been dozing in a hard chair next to the bed. Wolfram strained his eyes, hoping to bring it into focus. "Yuuri?"

"Wolfram!" the double black said in an excited whisper. "You're awake."

The blond stared at the shape for a minute longer as it shifted eerily. Suddenly, he could feel a touch—a hand on his shoulder, caressing it softly.

In the dark, Wolfram cringed at the feeling. He couldn't stop himself. And he hated his reaction and was thankful that Yuuri didn't know—couldn't see. The soldier in him gritted his teeth together. He'd had all of the training. He knew to expect this. But, still, it felt awful to behave this way to Yuuri's touch.

Another caress.

His heartbeat picked up for all the wrong reasons.

_I hate this._

"I can't see…" Wolfram shifted his weight on his arms, leaning heavily on the left one. With the right, he snapped his fingers, making a small flame dance over his open palm.

"Don't!" Yuuri rasped as the room lit up with a faint light. "You're not strong enough yet. You'll sap your strength."

Due to the warm glow, Wolfram could now see determined onyx eyes, eyebrows pushed together, and a mouth turned into a frown. There would be no reasoning with him one he was like that. Yuuri, despite his reputation for being a reasonable guy, could be decidedly _unreasonable_ on certain topics. Health was one of them. "Fine," he grumbled. Wolfram puckered his lips and blew a gentle puff of air. Yuuri found that strangely alluring—the golden blond's flickering profile slowly fading from his eyes. Wolfram melted into the darkness.

"Where are we?" He turned his head, squinting again. The curtains had not been shut completely and some grey moonlight poured in. Wolfram could see the outline of a second bed. In it, he could just make out two figures sleeping.

"We're staying at The Dog and Trumpet Inn," Yuuri answered, trying to keep his voice down. "I decided to take you home instead of your uncle's estate. Right now, we're a little more than half way back to Blood Pledge Castle. I sent Günter and the others on ahead."

By "others," Yuuri meant the prisoners and Wolfram felt only a grain of relief at that. At least, he wouldn't be tempted to conjure up a fire lion in front of Yuuri followed by attempts to rip Marelda and her brother apart. But he knew that he'd see them again at the trial. He found himself grinding his teeth again at the thought.

_No, I can't waste my time thinking about them. _

Then, something else occurred to him.

"Who are...? In the next bed, I mean," Wolfram motioned in the direction of the other bed. He was pretty sure he knew who they were, but the little blond devil inside made him ask anyway.

"Conrad and Yozak."

_Conrad…and…Yozak…huh?_ Wolfram lowered his head onto his forearms and hid a smile, even though he was pretty sure that Yuuri would never know. Then, he cut his eyes and strained to see in the dark. This was a unique opportunity to catch a glimpse of what he'd always suspected—those two together. The figure on the side closest to him had to be Conrad. Knowing his brother, he would feel that he just might be needed sometime in the night. So, that would be the best place for him to sleep. Yozak would be on the far side, of course, in case of an intruder. Both men had their backs to one another at the moment. But, if Wolfram squinted and looked closely enough, he could see that they rested their backs against each other, drawing warmth.

_So typical of Conrad and Yozak_, he smirked again.

"Wolfram?" Yuuri said.

"Yes?"

"How do you feel?"

The blond thought about it. Too much honesty would worry the double black. But, doing the opposite would be ridiculous. Yuuri would see right through it.

"I feel like…" He took a breath and continued humbly. "Like…I owe you my life."

There was a soft chuckle in the dark. "You didn't answer my question."

"I know."

The hand caressed his shoulder again. Wolfram prepared himself for it. And, this time, he glowed a little inside. The attention felt good even if the rest of him felt like hell. He made a mental note to find ways to keep this from getting worse—from letting any contact with Yuuri rattle him.

"Yuuri?"

"Yes? Do you want some water?" Yuuri offered a glass, placing it in Wolfram's hand without waiting for a response. He wrapped his fingers around it and took a gentle drink. But, before he knew it, the water was disappearing faster and faster—making soft "glugs."

"Slow down!" Yuuri worried in a louder voice than he intended. "You're going to make yourself sick."

Wolfram snickered a little in response to that, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. "I feel like I've been skinned alive. A stomach ache won't be much more of a bother."

"Wolfram," he said with a smile in his voice, "you're being really difficult now."

"That's my nature. I'm trouble."

"Yes, you are" was followed by soft laugh.

Wolfram handed the glass back in the direction he knew Yuuri to be. "What time is it?"

"After midnight," Yuuri said, he fiddled with his watch which had a blue glow in the dark. Wolfram raised his head a little at that. The blond was not fond of the magical machines from Yuuri's world—too tiny, too complicated, too confusing, and impossible to puzzle out in a language that had three symbol systems to even comprehend correctly. But the watch had a beautiful, azure halo. Maybe, in another hour, he'd ask about the time…again…maybe.

Yuuri yawned and tried to stifle it with his hand.

"How long have you been sitting there?"

Yuuri laughed a bit at that. In Wolfram's imagination, he could just see the double black putting his hand behind his head awkwardly.

_Next, he'll down play it. He always does when he wants to lie but can't._

"No worries, Wolfram. It hasn't been so bad."

_When I'm right, I'm right._ Wolfram sighed inwardly.

The blond tried to shift in the bed to get a bit more comfortable and groaned. He pressed his lips together to keep from making much noise, but Yuuri's ears caught it. "Are-you-okay?" He rushed the words.

"Fine…I just tried… to move a little. That's all."

"I understand," Yuuri said, got off the chair, and knelt next to Wolfram's side of the bed. "Hold still."

"Still? _Eh_?"

The blond could feel his face flush as the blanket and sheets were pulled away, exposing his back. It was at that point that he realized he had no shirt on. Wolfram could feel his heart beating hard again. His fingers gripped the sheets before he knew what he was doing. Wolfram braced himself. _He's not going to hit me. This is Yuuri. He cares. I'm fine. It won't hurt._ "Yuuri? What are you…?" A soft, green glow lit up the room. Turning his head to the side, he could now see Yuuri with his hands hovering over him with a contented smile on his face.

"Feeling better?"

Wolfram released the breath he was holding, and some part of him felt guilty. Deeply guilty. Being with his fiancé should not be this hard. "Y-Yeah…"

The pain burning into him started to diminish into a soft, warming numbness. Wolfram couldn't stop himself from the contented sigh that escaped him. His body felt relaxed, almost boneless. "Pain's going… It's good…" Wolfram allowed his head to fall heavily on his forearms once again. "Oh, that's wonderful," he moaned.

"I think we'll stop there… Don't want to give people the wrong impression." Then, the blanket and sheets pulled up around pale shoulders.

"I'm better. Thanks, Yuuri."

"I'm glad," the double black said, taking the chair once again. "Get some sleep now, okay?"

Wolfram thought a little about it. He still didn't know about the extent of his injuries. But, from Yuuri's behavior, he must not be in such a bad way. And, now, he had a tingly warm feeling spreading through him. And he was comfortable in the bed, being watched over by his fiancé. But, still…

"Come to bed, Yuuri," Wolfram said quietly.

Silence. There was something new in Wolfram's tone. Yuuri wasn't sure what it was, but there was definitely something different…and vulnerable…kind of…

"Y-You're not healed up…entirely. I think it would be better if I…"

"I would prefer it," Wolfram interrupted. The blond took a breath and let it go hesitantly before forcing the word "p-please."

"I-I'm…sure…but…" Yuuri stammered. His eyes flicked to the bed with Conrad and Yozak.

"In case the nightmares come back," Wolfram whispered. "I mean…I'd rather have you here beside me… I won't kick you. I promise." The tone was back again, the one that was really starting to worry Yuuri.

"Sure…but I'm not…" Yuuri leaned over and said, "I don't have my pajamas."

"Neither do I."

"You don't sleep in pajamas," Yuuri said back.

"I think I'm sleeping in a pair of trousers. So, just sleep in yours."

Yuuri folded his arms and frowned. His fiancé's life had been the priority all this time. Yuuri didn't care about himself or what he was wearing—only Wolfram mattered and the fact that he had not opened his eyes even though his wounds were, seemingly, healed.

Without needing to look, Yuuri knew that his clothes were still covered in Wolfram's dried blood. And he had no intention of telling him that until the morning—when it would become obvious and he'd have no choice. But Conrad promised to buy new clothes for him to wear. There would be a new outfit for Wolfram to wear, too.

"Or…your boxers." Wolfram tried to grumble, but it was half-hearted.

_Boxers? __Yes, he would notice that I prefer to wear boxers over the standard G-string._ "Fine," Yuuri said. He stripped and tossed his clothes on the floor. Meanwhile, the blond scooted over in the bed to make way for him on his right side.

"Just get in."

"Okay..okay…" _Sheesh…_

"Sorry to twist your arm," Wolfram grumbled.

"You didn't." _I really need to sound more diplomatic. He's still not well._

"Yes, I did…but…thank you anyway." He sighed into his forearms.

The bed dipped a little with his weight. Yuuri was now lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. "If you thrash like you're having a nightmare, I'll be sure to wake you up. Okay?"

The blond turned to him curiously. "How can you tell the difference from the way I usually sleep?" He thought he was being coy by saying it. Then again, this was the first time he'd admitted to being a bad bed partner.

"Umm…you kind of woke me up…moaning. I was trying to decide whether or not to wake you up."

"Oh, I see…"

Yuuri swallowed a bit before saying, "Wanna talk about it? The dream, I mean…" There was a part of him that was curious and needed to know everything. What would frighten Wolfram? Then again, considering what he just went through…

"No. I'm a soldier, and I can handle anything that happens…anything."

"Wolfram…" Yuuri turned on his side and leaned in closer to him. The double black rested his head against the blond's. Wolfram could feel his face warm up.

"You're not alone. Remember that." It was followed by a gentle, hesitant kiss on the lips. "So, G'night, Wolfram. We'll discuss more once we get back to the castle."

"I suppose," Wolfram said, resting his chin on his forearms. He forced his eyes closed but that kiss really woke him up. Some selfish part of him desperately wanted to have another. "See you tomorrow."

In a few minutes, the two were snoozing peacefully in the bed. Wolfram had moved an arm that now rested across the chest of the double black—rising and falling with his breaths. In his sleep, Yuuri's hand found Wolfram's hand. The warmth and the movement seemed to make Wolfram recall something in his dreams—a feeling of being held, being protected, and the word "beloved" floating to him.

Conrad sat up in bed and watched over the royal couple with a shy smile. He had heard everything from the start. _Well, if you won't say it yet, then I'll say it for you both… _"I love you."

"Yeah, I love you, too," Yozak murmured.

* * *


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

"What is this?" Wolfram roared. His voice echoed off the castle walls. It was a high volume version of his usual, bossy tone that said quite clearly "This is so stupid, and I can't believe I'm wasting my time on it!"

"Now, now…we shouldn't get upset," Gerard muttered nervously at Wolfram's side, trying to calm his commander and idol a bit with a "we" instead of a "you."

Wolfram was still recovering and working half days, due to Gisela's orders, but it was becoming a bit of a strain for those around the feisty blond. The Mazoku soldier was itching to get back to work and everyone knew it.

"I agree with the idea of _calming down_," Conrad chimed in, glancing at his own copy of the new military budget.

"Why did we get a 10 percent cut?" Wolfram growled with a voice that was still boiling over. "What idiot decided…?" Then, it struck him. He squeezed his eyes shut and yelled "_Yuuri_?!"

Coming out of his studies from the library a tad early, thanks to Wolfram's bellowing, Yuuri joined the little group with a cheesy grin and a hand behind his head, looking quite nervous.

Günter popped his head out the library. But, upon seeing a small group of incredibly irate men in military uniforms with budget sheets in their hands, he thought the better of it and withdrew—closing the door.

Yuuri gave the closed door a quick frown.

"That's because _someone_," Gwendal said, staring down at his own copy of the new military budget for the coming year, "decided to cut the taxes to practically zero on all products from Caloria." The administrator frowned in the maou's direction with stress marks showing on his face and a new wrinkle appearing on his forehead.

"But, we've always placed high taxes on anything from human territories," Gerard said with astonishment.

"Well," Yuuri began as a hedge, "I'm friends with Lady Flynn Gilbit and wanted to encourage trade." He hoped a winning smile would sway them.

Wolfram tilted his head towards the heavens and let out an angry hiss, clutching the document in his hands so hard that it wrinkled and crunched on one side. "So, because of that, I can't have the new weapons I specified in subsections eighteen and nineteen?"

The double black laughed nervously. He didn't know it was Wolfram who wanted all of that. "If you'll look again," he pointed to his fiancé's paper, "it's not like you'll get nothing. It just won't be as much."

"Ninety percent…not as much," he grumbled back.

"We'll find a way to make it work, Heika," Gerard said diplomatically and saw Wolfram covering his face with his hand in defeat.

Gerard, with his noble good looks and his majestic demeanor, leaned in his commanding officer's direction with a smile and added "We'll do it."

"Yes, we will…I suppose," Wolfram said with a sigh. He was too tired now to argue. And it was frustrating. Before this, the old Wolfram could bellow for hours and stomp his feet if he wasn't getting his way. The old Wolfram would have yelled "cheater" at Yuuri for favoring Lady Flynn and giving tax breaks that, after things trickled down, could possibly weaken the defense of the kingdom. But, instead, Wolfram simply felt tired. Gisela said that the fatigue was probably due to the Houseki stone powder in the aggrieving oil Marelda had rubbed onto the whip. However, Wolfram had his own theory. Maybe, some part of him wanted to sleep forever and escape. Just not wake up again and let go. He had been thinking of letting go for several days now. _Today might be a good day to do that._

He stared down at the budget one last time and sighed again. But his troubles didn't end there. Out of the corner of his eye, the blond could see Gerard circling around their group and moving toward him. Adrenaline made a painful arc through his body, making the blond soldier want to shut down more to hide what he was feeling. _He's coming this way. Damn it._ Some part of Wolfram didn't want it. Not from him. Not from anybody. He took three steps backward and pretended that leaning against the wall with his left shoulder and looking at the budget again was a good idea. He shook his head at the numbers and frowned.

"Is there anything you'd like me to do?" Gerard asked, now standing in front of Wolfram.

The others watched this display with slight amusement with the exception of Yuuri. He knew that Wolfram didn't like this kind of attention. All of his life, Wolfram had to put up with people hitting on him indirectly—veiled, oh so loosely, offerings and minor flirtations that seemed harmless on the surface.

Yuuri's onyx eyes got hard and he suddenly felt Conrad nudge into him. His godfather shook his head slightly in a "no" which made Yuuri blink curiously. "Look at his face," Conrad whispered quickly. And, for once, Yuuri did look closely at Wolfram. The green eyes seemed dull and far away. He was chewing his lower lip, almost in thought, but it was just a distraction—a way of ignoring what was going on.

"Watch and learn," Conrad murmured. Yuuri blinked at him.

"No thanks," Wolfram said evenly. "Wait, on second thought, our unit needs a review of cut, thrust, and flame throwing techniques. Have them do the usual drills three times. And keep an eye on Dorian. He likes to slack off when I'm not there. I know he's a friend of yours, but…"

"Friend or not…" Gerard replied as he shook his beautiful mane for a moment. "We are your private guard. And we need to be _good enough_ to fight by your side." He glanced at the maou to get his point across. They were all fiercely loyal…to Wolfram.

"I appreciate it," Wolfram said with a well rehearsed thin smile and a hand on the man's shoulder. Gerard blushed as though the blond had kissed him and left easily enough.

Yuuri watched the soldier go and then turned his eyes back to Wolfram. The blond was back to leaning with his shoulder against the stone wall, but had a much more relaxed look on his face and a casual aura about him. He was scanning the paper down to the final column—again—waiting for the most natural moment to leave. Wolfram was tired of everyone now.

"Hi!" Gisela called from the far end of the hallway. She waved cheerily.

Yuuri turned to look at Wolfram's face again and saw barely disguised panic. Since they'd returned to the castle two weeks ago, Wolfram had grown annoyed—really annoyed—of the healer suddenly popping up and carting him off for another treatment of some kind. And, it appeared that today would be no different than last week.

Wolfram turned his head right and left, looking for a quick escape route. Yuuri held back a chuckle and remembered how many times he had felt that way about Wolfram suddenly showing up. But, then, his mirth faded. For, things between him and the blond ex-prince had certainly changed.

Once they had returned to Blood Pledge Castle, Yuuri had intended to tell Wolfram the three little words that would have meant everything to him. But the time was never right. Well, at least, that's what he told himself. After all, Gisela kept him in the infirmary for four solid days—finding ways to either dull Wolfram's pain or to give him treatments to reduce the hideous scars that threatened to remain permanent on the young man's back. There were, indeed, times when they were together—like dinner or playtime with Greta. But, that wasn't what he wanted. Who wants to be told "I love you" in front of everyone over fish paste soup with elbow noodles and carrots? And Greta would have demanded a wedding on the spot if he'd said anything out of the ordinary. And, once Wolfram was released from the infirmary, Yuuri insisted upon having Wolfram sleep with him and Greta. He had hoped that, alone, would tell the blond that he was wanted. But, as the nights passed, the double black could see that it didn't. Wolfram would be the first in bed, asleep on his stomach, at the far end of the mattress.

Then, Yuuri thought he'd try again. But, the last five days were just too busy—with refugees crossing into demon territories due to well armed bandits raiding the human border towns, committing murder and arson. The sudden influx of humans into demon villages had been causing resentment. One village held a protest—which started, oddly enough, in the local tavern—that deteriorated into a riot where humans, Mazoku, and half humans held a three-way battle which destroyed crops as well as the local schoolhouse, and Yuuri was compelled to send in troops to secure the areas.

Finally, Yuuri had to admit that it was just far too easy to fall back into the same old routine with the same old habits. Everyone expected him to act "normally." And, it was the "Japanese" in him that wanted to deliver on that promise of normalcy.

Yuuri looked up from his thoughts to see a cringing Wolfram facing Gisela. She was handing over yet another medication. He accepted it with both hands politely, but really wanted noting to do with it. The blond could feel his brothers looking on with approval. And, as he was now, he'd found himself craving that "big brother approval" more and more. So, reluctantly, he went along with it.

"Try this one," the green haired healer said cheerfully. "I want you to continue to take two baths per day for the stiffness. And you'll need to put this on your back when you're done."

Wolfram eyed the small pot with a beautiful white and blue swirl glaze on it. He pulled out the cork and gave it a sniff. It smelled like almonds. "Not bad," he murmured with a frown.

"Yes, you'll smell absolutely delicious! Then, I'll see you in my office tomorrow afternoon." She gave him a wink and left to see her other patients with a small skip in her step. She was getting her way and had very little resistance from Wolfram this time. It was going to be a good day.

Wolfram looked at the pot with a deepening frown. "I'd better get my clothes, take a bath, and then my 'required-by-Gisela' nap."

His older brothers smirked to each other with unspoken words and walked away in the direction of Gwendal's office.

Yuuri stood in the hallway, watching Wolfram leave. Something…felt…wrong… His heart started to sink painfully.

"Yuuri Heika!" a sweet voice called behind the maou. It called again and Wolfram stopped. He turned his head and glared at the woman behind Yuuri. It was one of the new maids with shoulder length hair that was cotton candy pink with bright blue highlights. Her new uniform was impossibly tight, emphasizing her ample bosom. She grinned girlishly at the maou. He cocked his head at her, curious.

Feeling a pair of green eyes on him, Yuuri turned back and saw Wolfram. Yuuri opened his mouth to say something, to declare his innocence because there's nothing wrong with talking to a maid, but he stopped when he saw the cold, green eyes raking over the woman.

_Why is he…?_

Wolfram folded his arms and stared longer. _Standard frilly uniform. No visible weapons. Hands clasped together. Foolish, girly, love-sick stare. No battle aura. Harmless._ He looked away thinking, _Whatever… I'm going…_

The blond turned back and walked casually away, a hand in one pocket with the other hand clutching the medicine jar.

Yuuri was alone with her.

The double black waited for it. But "cheater" never echoed at him.

_Wolfram? Wait!_ His mind was racing. _You're supposed to say "cheater" and "wimp." You're supposed to chase after me in the halls. I run. You follow. That's how it is between us. That's how we are together._

"Yuuri Heika?" the maid said again.

"What? I mean… Yes?" Yuuri said distractedly.

The woman smiled, thinking that her charms had won over an engaged king right in front of his fiancé. And that fiancé was, now, nowhere in sight. She'd won. Her heart did a little victory dance. "We're out of the shampoo that you like so much. The one that smells like vanilla." She leaned forward and saw his onyx eyes widen a little. "Would you prefer my peach," she said with a giggle, "or cherries?" She held up the bottles.

Wolfram turned the corner—looking weary and exhausted. He raked one hand through his bangs. His shoulders slumped. "I really want that nap now."

"Ummm….sure, yeah…fine," the double black said and ran off in the direction of the blond. His footsteps echoed in the hall.

* * *

Yuuri entered his room. The maids had, obviously, been at work. The bed had fresh sheets and clean blankets. There wasn't a speck of dust, and the curtains were pulled back. But, still, the king's chambers were empty. He knocked on his private bathroom door. Nothing. He opened the door. No one.

"I thought he said he was getting his clothes," Yuuri muttered.

For some reason that he couldn't understand, he found himself peeking in the closet. He didn't expect Wolfram to be in there, but something inside told him to look. All of Wolfram's uniforms were gone, however the frilly nightgown was still on a hanger. The casual clothes were gone, too. He glanced around and realized that there was very little of Wolfram left in the room. Yuuri went to the dresser and searched. His own clothes were still there, however all that remained of Wolfram was a bottom drawer with trousers that no longer fit the blond.

"Did he take it all just now? Or did he move out…and nobody noticed?"

Yuuri looked down at his feet. He'd been a fool to wait this long.

"A bath. That's what he said he was going to do next," the double black said to himself, finding his robe and fresh clothes to change into.

With his robe, clothes, and bath things all balanced in his arms, Yuuri left his room without bothering to close the door behind him. He was still kicking himself for being an idiot and a wimp. Wolfram had been right about him all along.

* * *

He tried to open the door quietly. The steam billowed out and Yuuri could hear splashing going on. He smiled to himself as he closed the door and locked it. He didn't want anyone to come in while they were talking. It was about time he told Wolfram a few things. He only hoped that it wasn't too late.

"Yuuri?" Wolfram said, sitting on the edge of the gigantic tub. Steam was rising from it, casting little pillowy clouds that made the perfect backdrop for Wolfram. The blond had a towel wrapped around his waist and was running his fingers through his wet hair.

"Hi," Yuuri replied with a boyish shrug. "I decided to join you…if that's okay."

Green eyes narrowed at him a little. "It's your bath, you know." Then, as an after thought, he added, "I really should start using my own again."

"No, it's okay!" Yuuri said with his palms forward in almost a defensive gesture. "I don't mind sharing. The more the merrier, right?" He smiled and Wolfram raised an eyebrow at him.

"As you say…"

Yuuri approached the tub, wearing only a white towel. He sat next to Wolfram and dipped his feet into the warm water. It was calling him, pulling him in. But he ignored it. He really needed to talk to Wolfram.

"Your clothes are gone from our room," he said seriously.

"Yes," Wolfram replied as a sigh. "So, how long did it take you to notice? Just curious…"

Yuuri blanched at that and stared down at the steamy water.

"Never mind. Stupid question," Wolfram said while he uncorked the pot of cream that was sitting next to him, and began to apply it to his shoulders. The scent of almonds filled the room. There was a slight warming sensation followed by an icy touch—as though a breeze had blown by. Wolfram blinked down at his fingers that seemed to feel warm and cold sensations at once.

"Let me help you," Yuuri said and didn't wait for a reply before he took the small blue and white pot from Wolfram's grip. "Turn your back to me."

Wolfram gave a sudden startled glare that seemed totally alien. He quickly recovered with "Don't bother. I'll be fine."

"It's not a bother," Yuuri said in a kind tone, gently pushing one shoulder aside to get better access to Wolfram's back.

"No, I said!" He scooted away from Yuuri with angry, sharp green eyes. He was breathing harder than before and his face looked frightened.

"What's the matter?" Yuuri said with concern now. "You are getting better, right? Or are you hiding something from Gisela and the rest of us?" _And…me?_

Wolfram crossed his arms and gave an unconvincing "humph" followed by the words "I'm perfectly fine."

"No," Yuuri said with a small shake of his head, "no…you're not…you're not fine at all." Hesitantly, he reached a hand and touched Wolfram on the arm. The blond grimaced a little and froze. Green eyes locked into black. "You haven't been okay for awhile now." Then, he thought about it. "You don't hug Greta anymore. You pat her on the head. You sleep at the far end of the bed every night. Even today, when you saw Gerard coming, you leaned against the wall so that he'd have to face you, not approach from the side or behind."

"Shut up," Wolfram growled.

"So, is it that your back hurts so much…or is it that you don't want to be touched?"

"Shut up…or I'm leaving." He kicked the water harder than he'd intended. It sent a wave to the other side of the tub.

"I see…" Then, Yuuri looked at the pot again. "Well, then, will you trust me…enough…to put this on you?"

The blond gave a curt nod. "Yeah…I'll just pretend you're Gisela." He turned his back to Yuuri and the double black's jaw fell. There were red slash marks that crisscrossed—some were smooth, some deep lines, and others raised and thick. The swelling was still bad in places, puffy and whitish.

"Gisela, right…" He took some of the cream out and rubbed it on Wolfram's back. The blond jerked away at the first touch, but forced himself to remain still as the hands lightly rubbed in the cream. "Do you prefer her?" Yuuri asked absently as he worked. "She's pretty, you know?" He laughed a little and waited to be called "cheater."

It didn't happen.

Wolfram turned his head to Yuuri. "It looks bad, doesn't it?"

Yuuri shook his head and tried to hide a grimace, "It's…what I expected after I saw you the next day." He shut his eyes tightly for a second to block out the hideous image of Wolfram's raw back being cleaned and bandaged again by Conrad and Yozak in their room at the inn. "I'm no skilled healer and you were losing so much blood. I think I messed things up." Inside, it hurt to admit it, but that was how he felt. "I needed you…alive…" He took a quick breath and continued, "I've done this to you. I'm sure Gisela could have healed you without scars left behind."

Wolfram shook his blond head at that. "The ground Houseki stones blocked the healing, Gisela told me yesterday. Besides, I'm alive. So, don't blame yourself. It was kind of you to watch over me."

"Well, of course I would," Yuuri said with an edge while reaching into the jar for more cream. It was the kind of response that he'd usually give his older brother when he said something stupid.

A huffy kind of laugh echoed back at that. "Yes, that's what friends are for."

Yuuri rubbed his hands against Wolfram's back with a gentle touch. "I thought you'd say 'fiancé' instead of 'friend.'"

"A mistake," Wolfram admitted, "our engagement was a mistake. _We_ are a mistake. You didn't know our customs, that a slap was a marriage proposal, and ended up with me."

Yuuri stroked Wolfram's shoulder with a bit more weight behind it. He was thinking of Murata's discussion and the red thread of fate that tied him to Wolfram. They were simply meant to be—even if it appeared to be on the surface a mistake. The slap was how they were brought together. Their lives, their adventures, secured the tie. Susanna Julia, Yuuri's previous incarnation, knew Wolfram very well and was his teacher. It made Yuuri wonder, now that they were engaged, what he was teaching Wolfram in this lifetime. Apparently, that was the relationship between their souls: Yuuri/Julia the educator and Wolfram the student. But there was a genuine fondness, respect, and now that Yuuri really thought about it, there was love there, too.

"Don't call it that," Yuuri said quietly.

Wolfram lowered his head as asked, "Then, what's wrong with me?"

"I don't understand…"

"Yes, you do. You've understood for three years now."

Yuuri rubbed Wolfram's other shoulder with both hands. It had very few marks on it and could handle the pressure.

"It's not you, Wolfram, you're absolutely beautiful."

"Not anymore," the blond said. "Now, my body matches my soul. Apparently, Shinou's had a good look at my soul. He says it's in pretty bad condition." His tone lightened a little at the thought for some odd reason.

"The problem has always been that I've wanted things…traditional things…"

"Earth things?" Wolfram could feel Yuuri's hands moving lower, to his mid back.

"Kind of..." Yuuri tried to phrase it so that Wolfram could understand. "Being Japanese means that you have a certain mindset. You do things in certain ways to be a part of the group…to be a part of society. And, I guess, I never wanted to stand out. I wanted to live the lives my parents did."

"To be like your father, you mean?" Wolfram found himself secretly envying Yuuri for having one, and not for the first time, either. _It must be nice to have a father_.

"So, that's why I'm like…" Yuuri shook his head. This was not why he'd come into the bath. He wanted to tell Wolfram "I love you." But, they'd wandered pretty far away from that subject—again.

Wolfram turned. Stiffly, he shifted his body around to face Yuuri. "My world…my culture…is really different from yours." He took Yuuri's hand and laced their fingers together. "And, do you know what I think? I think I embarrass you."

Yuuri's face turned pinkish. He couldn't hide it. Yes, Wolfram's not so subtle behavior and declarations of "like," or rather "more than like," were well known throughout the castle and kingdom. And, to a quiet kind of Japanese young man, this was over the top.

Wolfram saw the blush and knew that he was right. A small part of his soul wanted to cling to Yuuri and cry. But the soldier in him told him to carry on until the end. He had to.

Wolfram looked at their laced fingers and said, "I also think you are afraid of physical intimacy." And, with that, Yuuri blushed a deeper shade of red.

_Again, I'm right…_

The blond tried to disguise his feelings with a sigh. It would be easier for Yuuri to take. Wolfram gave their hands a squeeze. "Do you know that if this was the most affection that you could ever give me, but you said 'I love you' to me, it would be enough?" The double black gave him a stunned look. "I would live happily by your side until the end of my life."

"No," Yuuri said, turning his onyx eyes down to their laced fingers. "It's not possible. Men have needs, too."

"Oh, really?" Wolfram leaned a little closer with the scent of almonds. "Let's just say that I have more experience in the bedroom than you do." The double black lowered his head down, eyes cast in shadow. Wolfram had implied "virgin" again—which did not set well. "And let me tell you something. I can't say that I've done it all, but I have experienced a lot. There were things that I did and enjoyed with my partners. But there were also things that I was 'supposed to like' and didn't. In fact, I have no plans of ever doing them again." Wolfram chuckled a little to himself at the memories, good and bad. "Do you think I would be so cruel as to force you into something that you didn't want to happen? Did it ever dawn on you that there are things I don't want to happen?"

Yuuri was speechless. He had no answers.

The blond continued. "We have this saying: Sex is sex and love is love. The two are not the same. And one does not prove the existence of the other."

The blond placed his palm against Yuuri's cheek and stroked it. "Your original dream was to get married to a woman in a long, white dress with your parents looking on in happiness." For a second, Wolfram closed his eyes and remembered one of the visions in Shinou's water-mirror. "And I want you to have that…that and the three black haired, black eyed children playing with Greta in the rose garden." Wolfram stroked Yuuri's face softly again. He omitted the rest of the vision—the tombstone with his own name inscribed with a date of death two years from now. No more self pity. Yuuri would come first.

"And I will stay with my original dream. I'll be the soldier. I'll protect you and the kingdom for as long as I can."

Yuuri's dark eyes widened. He shook his head "no" and followed-up with the words, "That's not it. That's not it at all."

"Of course it is." Wolfram leaned his forehead against Yuuri's. Black and blond hair mixed. "I promise to watch over you…always." He kissed the double black gently on the forehead. "This is my vow."

"That's not how this…" Yuuri's onyx eyes were filling with tears. "I wanted to tell you that I lo-"

Wolfram's fingers were pressed against Yuuri's lips. "There's someone better for you out there. And I'd rather have your fellowship than your pathos." _And if I let go of you first, it won't hurt so badly… I pray this pain goes away someday._ The blond forced a smile on his lips. He leaned over and gave the double black a light hug. Yuuri accepted it, but couldn't force his arms to move or hold him in return.

Wolfram said in his ear, "You never could take change well when Fortune's Wheel turns. So, don't worry. Nothing will change right away. I'll still be at your side until the day comes when you no longer need me."

"And if I need you forever?" Yuuri asked, barely above a whisper.

"You won't," Wolfram sighed and let Yuuri go from their hug.

The blond started to stand up, but found that Yuuri had his hand again. "Don't give up," Yuuri blurted out, his face serious. "I know that I don't want to."

"It will be fine," Wolfram assured him, standing now. Their hands were still linked, and Yuuri allowed himself to be pulled up to his feet. "So, I'll see you tonight, huh?"

"Tonight?" the double black said, scratching his head.

"The dinner party that mother is throwing…? You know…the one for the nobles? They're celebrating the grape harvest." Wolfram tried not to make him feel stupid, but the whole castle had been preparing for it for days now. "Mother throws this party every year. It's just that you and I keep missing it because of all those crazy adventures that we keep going on. Anyway, we're here this time. So, we have to attend. And Mother said that she had new outfits made for us. I wouldn't be surprised if the clothes are waiting in our rooms now."

"Our…rooms…" Yuuri parroted weakly. "You…uh…planned all of this for awhile now."

The blond nodded. "Once we got back and I realized that everything was just the same as before… I always talked about a wedding, and you always ignored it." With a shrug, he concluded, "I finally learned to accept 'no' from you."

Deep inside Yuuri, he could feel the Maou Heika stir. He was more than angry; he was absolutely livid.

Wolfram had given up, and Yuuri had allowed it.

* * *

It was a wonderful dinner party. The meal, which included a lot of wine tasting by all of the nobles and their families, was over and the dancing was about to begin. By Blood Pledge Castle's standards, it was a relatively small affair with glittering crystal, candles burning, and a quartet playing in the background. The women were all wearing their finest—looking like the beautiful butterflies that they actually were.

By the east wall, a small group of men stood around a long table with beer, more wine, and punch. The well dressed gentlemen were talking in low voices. Occasionally, one would laugh out loud. Maybe, it was a little too loud, but the others would quickly join in. Alcohol could turn the most respected nobles back into their boyish selves.

There was another couple chatting in front of the guard that was posted by the rear exit. Two more, in fine military dress uniforms, were posted at the front. Standing near the corner of the drinks table, wearing one of his best outfits, was Gwendal. He had a glass of wine that he was pretending to be drinking. He swirled the dark red liquid and frowned into it. His sharp eyes caught Conrad and Yozak in the far corner, talking in low voices. Yozak was especially well dressed tonight in a dark grey suit with lace at the cuffs and caught the eye of many in the room because of it. But, at the moment, the blue eyed man seemed to be comforting Conrad in a soft spoken voice that he only reserved for the people he truly cared about.

"No, you're right," Yozak said. "I've been watching Wolfram for awhile now. It's more than being sick. He's acting strangely."

"It would be better if he discussed his problems with one of us…or, better yet, Yuuri."

"He won't," Yozak grumbled quietly and cocked his head a little to one side," because he wants to be like his older brothers. He wants to handle everything himself."

Conrad raised an eyebrow. "Do I do that?"

"Captain, permission to speak freely?" Yozak replied with a smirk, putting on his best subordinate voice. Sometimes, it was fun to be in a lower rank.

"Considering all that we've done together, I think you can say anything you want."

Yozak chuckled with "be careful how you phrase these things." Conrad gave him the smile that said "continue," and he did. "I think Wolfram is a lot like you in many ways. He's determined, strong, kind, and loved by the people around him. And, in the end, it will all work out."

At that moment, Yuuri walked by with a goblet of wine that he had been keeping with him, untasted, for the last half hour. He tried to find the most boring nobles in the room so that he could strike up a conversation and not have to dance again. It wasn't that hard, really, after Gwendal had given him a few tips. Just make the other person talk about himself or herself. Likes and dislikes were simple—from a favorite meal to the local festivals taking place in their realms.

Earlier, Wolfram and Yuuri had arrived together, of course, with Yuuri wearing a black silk suit and Wolfram in a creamy white version of the same outfit but with lace at the throat and sleeves. With purpose, the blond took his hand and motioned, ever so slightly, with his head in the direction of the dance floor. "Do we have to?" he sulked. His reply from the blond was a sour nod. Then, it struck him. Of course, they'd have to dance the first waltz together. The king had to start off the festivities. He narrowed his eyebrows. "Fine, let's go."

Once on the floor, Yuuri and Wolfram faced each other. Then, Yuuri turned, as he had done many times before at these types of events, only with a girl on his arm and not a fuming, jealous Wolfram who would bellow "cheater" at him for a week afterwards. Yuuri thought about it, and then called for the song that he wanted. This time, he chose a popular, and quite thankfully short, waltz called "Evening Star." The first few bars struck up as he placed his hand on Wolfram's waist. He felt a shudder followed by an uncharacteristic stiffness on Wolfram's face.

"Are you okay?" Onyx eyes looked at him with concern.

"Let's dance." He spoke the words quietly, in a murmur.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm fine."

He pulled Wolfram in a bit closer and whispered, "No, you're not. _We're_ not."

The music started. They danced with the double black leading. Wolfram patiently followed along and ignored the times that Yuuri stepped on his feet. Yuuri thought about it as the background made steaks of color behind a very serious looking angelic face. His mind was elsewhere, not on the dance. And, maybe, Yuuri feared, not on him at all. Then, another thought came to him. It was certainly strange. For the first time in his life, he wasn't uncomfortable with dancing with a guy. This was Wolfram. He trusted him and he didn't particularly care about what the other nobles thought. Besides, this was part of the norm in this world. In fact, there were several male-male couples dancing at the last ball they had at the castle. Yuuri remembered it well, but also remembered his own embarrassment at it all. Sadly, he was the only one with that issue.

Before the double black knew it, the song was over. Wolfram was leading him away so that others could dance. "Wait here," Wolfram said quietly in his ear. Then, the blond quickly moved off in the direction of the drinks table to get Yuuri something. The double black watched him. At the table, the Wolfram picked up a goblet, gave a few words of small talk to a pretty girl who was flirting with him, and turned in Yuuri's direction. Wolfram approached him, handed over the cup with a thin smile, the words "cheer up a little," and a reassuring rub on the shoulder. After that, he disappeared.

While listening to an old dowager explain that she hated all parties but had to attend them for appearance's sake because, if she didn't go, no one would invite her to anything ever again, the double black caught the conversation of two young ladies standing behind him. He decided that it was the annoying, half-drunk giggling that had attracted his attention and it was starting to get on his nerves.

"Oh…Isn't that Lord Wolfram von Bielefeld?" one said, pointing to the opposite end of the room. She took a noisy slurp of her wine.

"Yes," the other said in her most gossipy voice. "Oh, wait! Isn't that Tawny von Grantz over there, too?"

"Yes!" giggled the first into a gloved palm. "You know, seven or eight years ago, they were quite _an item… if you know what I mean…_after he dumped Sir Elric Goddard. Or, was it the other way around and Sir Goddard dumped him?"

_Elric__ and then…Tawny?_ Yuuri blinked.

"And I hear that Tawny girl is _insatiable_. I also heard that she made him buy new lingerie every week because he's not exactly gentle. He'd rip them off of her."

"I know!"

Both girls practically squealed.

The first took another slurp of wine and licked her quickly purpling lips. "I can't believe that Tawny is back here at Blood Pledge Castle. I mean, considering that Lord von Bielefeld's engaged to the maou, inviting her could cause trouble."

"Oh, don't you know? They call him 'Wolfram the Undesirable' now."

"Yes, I heard that. What's wrong with him?"

Yuuri overheard the girls and found himself making a fist so tight that his nails were digging into his palm. It was more than his castle's staff. Even the nobles openly discussed Wolfram in his own castle—his own home—where anyone could hear. Some part of him wanted to confront them—to say something. But, instead, he turned to look at Wolfram and the woman they were discussing.

Some part of him didn't want to see it, but, at the same time, simply had to. What kind of person attracted Wolfram all those years ago?

"Lady von Grantz," Wolfram said politely, approaching Tawny. She was absolutely divine with her long midnight blue dress with pearls sewn randomly across the bodice. Pieces of her blond hair were tied back with small, satin ribbons. And the scooped neck of the dress framed the teardrop aquamarine necklace to perfection. It danced against her perky bosom.

"Wolf-Wolf?" she said with surprise, not expecting to see him quite so soon. Then, she blushed a little bit, remembering their last tryst before breaking up because they'd grown bored of each other. That, and Wolfram's temper was a real bother. "Well, I suppose I really shouldn't be calling you that anymore."

Wolfram nodded uncomfortably. "I think that would be best."

"I hoped I would see you, though…for old time's sake." Then, she gestured to the old dowager that Yuuri had been talking to earlier. The woman was now at the dessert table, complaining about the clotted cream. "My aunt insisted upon bringing me. I'm a pretty face and a good distraction for dull conversation."

Wolfram smiled at that. "When I was little, Mother used me the same way."

There was a brief, awkward silence. They were running out of things to say.

"So…So, I hear you're engaged to the Demon King," she said brightly. But Wolfram knew her well enough to tell when she was fishing. She always did that. "So, are you 'engaged' or—_you know_—'_engaged '_?"

"You've heard the rumors about me, I suppose?"

Tawny's green eyes lowered to the ground. Yes, she knew. But, for all of her faults, she would never be so crass as to say the words out loud. Wolfram always liked that about her.

"I see…" _She's heard about 'Wolfram the Undesirable.' I don't really care, though._

"I'm sorry," Tawny said sincerely. She took his hands in hers. Holding hands prettily was her nature and she liked beautiful gestures. Wolfram stiffened at the touch. He just couldn't help himself even though he knew that's what she would do. That's what she always did when she felt pity.

_I don't want it…don't need it… When will you let my hands go? _

There was a pained look in Wolfram's eyes now which confused her.

"Wolf…ram?"

A cruel, girlish giggle.

Her head turned in the direction of a small group of women. No, it was more than that. The room was watching every move and Tawny could feel eyes boring into them from every angle.

"What's she doing here, I wonder?" Yozak murmured, almost to himself, from where he was standing with Conrad. Conrad's face was blank. The aura in the room had changed. A vicious amusement. This did not bode well. Wolfram, whether he realized it or not, was giving the wrong impression entirely.

Cecile, handing a glass of wine to her handsome date, Mr. Whatever-his-name-is-this-week, smiled but with a curious edge to it. The thought floated to her that she just might end up having Tawny as a daughter-in-law after all. It was good to have a backup in case things with Yuuri fell through.

Not far away, looking beyond a throng of merrymakers and dancers, Gwendal straightened and squared his shoulders back defensively. This was not good, not good at all. His attention drifted, just like everyone else, to his king. If Yuuri didn't notice, being clueless as usual, that would be fine. There was also the possibility that he'd never even heard of Tawny or would even care. But reputations mattered in Mazoku society and politics. Gwendal decided to try harder to impress that fact upon the young maou and his baby brother in the near future.

Pushing back his emotions, he said, "Sorry, my mind wandered a bit." Wolfram slipped on a pleasant mask of coolness, relaxing his face and posture once more. He looked Tawny over, head to toe, and saw her smile up at him with that beautifully angled face and rows of perfectly white teeth. And, with relief, he felt her let go of his hands.

The nobles were still watching, gossiping. Then, a thought occurred with a glint of something dark. _Let's give everyone what they want._

"I believe," Wolfram said honestly, "that you really wanted to come here to meet Yuuri Heika. In the eight months you and I were together, you never did anything to please your old auntie if it didn't give you something fun out of it along the way. So, let's see the maou, okay? Let's do that."

Tawny opened her mouth to reply that she wasn't that petty. But, before she could do so, she felt Wolfram grasp her right hand. He pulled her through the small groups of nobles who were pretending to chat about the current state of events, but were really watching Wolfram holding Tawny's hand as he marched forward with purpose. A few of the girls whispered viciously—placing bets that the couple would leave the room together for a more secluded spot to be alone.

Yuuri's eyes widened at the sight of Wolfram coming back to him—holding Tawny's hand. And some part dreaded it. Was Wolfram coming to say "goodbye" to him? Had he found another so easily? Then again, should their engagement be dissolved, he was certain that Wolfram wouldn't be alone for very long.

He blinked again, suddenly realizing that the couple had been standing before him for more than a few seconds.

"Yuuri Heika," Wolfram said evenly with a calm expression on his face, "this is Lady Tawny von Grantz. She is a distant cousin of Adelbert von Grantz. Someone we all know well." Then, he turned to Tawny and gave her a reassuring wink. She relaxed her grip a little on his hand. The "Someone we all know well" line had been a bit distressing for her. She knew her cousin's reputation and had been trying to live it down as best she could. "Lady Tawny, this is Yuuri Heika, our maou."

Yuuri looked at Wolfram's face again. There was neither happiness nor sadness there. He simply was. The words were polite but distant. And the double black absolutely hated being referred to as "Yuuri Heika" and "our maou." There was something cold about it that made him want to crawl out of his skin.

"Please, call me Yuuri," he said and watched as Tawny's eyes widened with a touch of childish glee.

Wolfram released her hand. "Lady Tawny, please convey to your father, when you return, our regrets that our budget has changed for the coming year, and I won't have him purchase all of the weaponry that we had agreed upon." Wolfram glanced at Yuuri and said, "Her father, Charles von Grantz, acts as our purchaser."

Yuuri mouthed an "oh" at that.

"We had to rearrange the budget," Wolfram said pleasantly, "and we've got other plans with the funding. If your father has any questions, he can contact Gwendal directly."

Tawny nodded at that. She was always her father's little messenger girl. But, she didn't mind it because she usually got all of the juicy gossip along the way.

Wolfram looked at Tawny with a pleasant smile now. But, Yuuri noticed that it wasn't the pure joy that Wolfram had when he sometimes looked at him. His ego was stroked a little by that thought.

"Tawny and I have known each other for quite awhile."

The blond woman flashed him a look that said "Don't say too much." She got a very smooth shrug in return.

"And I thought that she could show you one of her special skills."

Yuuri felt himself sweat drop at the thought of her possible "special skills." He'd overheard enough tonight.

Wolfram said pleasantly, "Why don't you show him _The Rose_?"

Tawny nodded with a bright smile coming to her. She removed her gloves, handed them to Wolfram, and then put her hands together as in prayer. Then, she moved her hands apart. In between the palms, Yuuri saw a small red flame burning. It rounded itself into a sphere and then became a long, thin stem with vicious thorns. The top formed into a bud, and, oh so slowly, it began to bloom. The petals curled back with a pouting kiss.

"Wow!" Yuuri said, never seeing such a thing before.

"Yes, impressive. Isn't it?" Wolfram looked, too, and smiled with a genuine feeling of admiration. "Female fire wielders have the talent to create these works of art. The fine detail is just amazing."

Yuuri could hear a tad of jealousy in the tone. He fought back the smile that he felt inside. A jealous Wolfram was a cute Wolfram…sometimes.

"Yes, but you have the power to create a lion and use it in battle," Tawny said. "I could, maybe, create a lion the size of a dog. But it wouldn't last for very long. I'm not that strong."

"Well, I wouldn't want you to even try. You'd run out of magic and probably die," Wolfram said solemnly. "And nobody would want that. It's not a good way to go."

"There are no good ways," Yuuri said, frowning.

"But, there are honorable deaths and dishonorable deaths," Tawny said. "And I would choose honor above all else."

Yuuri smiled at that. "And I would just choose… life."

Tawny blinked at the odd statement, lost her concentration, and the rose disappeared in a puff of black smoke.

"It was good while it lasted," Wolfram said with a touch of sadness. He handed the gloves back to Tawny.

Yuuri nodded, "But we can make things last if we really want them to." His eyes flicked to Wolfram's, giving a meaning to his words.

"Maybe," Wolfram said quietly. Then, he turned to Tawny. "I know you love to dance. And I know that Yuuri Heika hasn't danced much tonight…other than with me."

"Oh, a shame!" Tawny said, feeling the thrill of being the first girl to dance with the maou. "Could we?" she asked hopefully. Her cute little hands were knitted together. Her eyes wobbled and sparkled.

Yuuri flashed Wolfram a look that said, "I hate to dance and you know it."

"I know that you'll make Tawny really happy. Thank you." Wolfram took her hand and placed it forward for Yuuri to take. Not having a way out of it, Yuuri laughed nervously and said, "I'm not the best, you know."

"But I am!" Tawny practically crowed, directing him to the dance floor.

Yuuri gave one last worried glance back at Wolfram. In reply, the blond gave a small, almost cheery wave, but his eyes seemed sad around the edges. He folded his arms against his chest and slowly turned away.

The couple joined the other dancers. The first few steps were awkward, but Tawny quickly pulled him closer to her. And, being a surprisingly good partner, she was able to keep the steps going and the timing just right. The best miracle of all was that she could do all of that and still make it appear that Yuuri was leading.

For a second, the double black's memory flashed back to Wolfram giving a short wave. He blinked slowly and caught the stares as well as the gossipy mouths hiding behind hands.

_I'm dancing with Wolfram's ex-lover. Everyone knows he just handed her over to me. _

"Very good, Heika. Your dancing has improved already!"

Yuuri looked down at his feet and then turned up to Tawny's smiling face.

_She really is beautiful. I can see what Wolfram saw in her. She's a talented fire Mazoku, proud, encouraging, confident…_ He took in her face and all of her features. She grinned back. _Yes, beautiful. Blond hair. Green eyes. Girlish frame._ He blinked at that. _She's Wolfram's height… She's just like…Wolfram!_

His body twirled in the dance.

Yuuri couldn't help himself.

_Wolfram! Where..?_

He looked for his fiancé as he moved across the dance floor.

_Where is he?_

After searching the room with a "not so graceful" turn of his head, the double black saw Wolfram at the dessert table, giving Greta a fat slice of cake and ushering her to a chair to eat it. He kissed her head and got a white frosting grin in return. Then, with a stretch, he made his way casually out the back door and into the night.

* * *


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Yuuri and Tawny danced. The double black could feel himself moving in time with the music. But, with each step, he had an overwhelming need to watch the door and he had a sinking feeling that was quickly merging with something that felt like, he guessed, a panic attack.

"Wolfram," Yuuri whispered under his breath.

"Sorry?" Tawny said. She frowned when the double black didn't answer her.

"I'm such an idiot," Yuuri murmured, glancing worriedly down at his feet.

_He won't be back. I know he won't. He's left me._

Left foot. Change Step. Two. Three.

"Excellent!" Tawny piped up, grinning. She hoped that sounding cheerful would win the king's attention. And why not? It worked on most men.

_He's gone. What do I do now? Dancing with her is what he wanted._

Step…two…three…

"Stay with me," she continued in a tone that bordered on something more than simple courtesy, "and I'll show you all the moves. You'll be an expert in no time." Her grip on him tightened meaningfully.

Yuuri's black eyes widened at that.

_Wolfram knew she would be like this. He didn't want me to feel alone… And royals were known to have fiancés, concubines, __and__ lovers… Even Wolfram's father did._

She smiled at him seductively. A female version of Wolfram's face with cherry pink lipstick glistening.

_Oh, hell…_

Then, the double black turned his head and scanned the crowd. All eyes were on them. This little scandal would be everywhere by dawn. But it was okay, he told himself. The attention, at the moment, would make things easier. However, it could also make this whole situation worse. It would be a gamble.

_The next thing to do would be…_

It's a plan.

_Okay…got it!_

Waltz promenade step.

"Back we go!"

"Yu- Yuuri Heika?" Tawny practically choked out, surprised. "I didn't know that you knew how to…"

Yuuri suddenly raised her hand and spun her—not that it was part of the waltz, but he didn't care. She felt herself falling backwards and right into a strong pair of arms.

"Conrad? Dance with Tawny, please. I don't need to introduce you to her, do I?"

The soldier's brown eyes stared in shock as he turned from Yuri to Tawny to…Yozak.

Yozak stood next to Conrad with a mouth that was simply desperate to twitch into a toothy grin. He fought it back with everything that he had in him, but his blue eyes simply gleamed with mischief and he cocked his head coyly to one side. "That sounds like an order, my captain." The tone was pure amusement. Conrad made a mental note to find a way to make Yozak pay dearly in the near future. He hid it with a knowing smile right back at the orange haired man.

"This way," Conrad said, practically scooping her up in his arms. And, unlike Yuuri, Conrad was quite the accomplished dancer. He could lead and charm a girl at the same time. He had years of practice thanks to all of the parties that his mother had made him attend in his lifetime. And Tawny easily fell for the charms as he held her close.

Conrad looked down at the blond beauty—remembering well the time when Wolfram had been courting her half-heartedly. The whole relationship was seen as a joke, more or less, among the nobles and as a sign of his baby brother's narcissistic nature. Wolfram and Tawny were so much alike physically that they were treated as though they were one person. Some of the nobles spread rumors that the couple wore each other's clothes and that Wolfram had a passion for bras—on himself. However, Conrad also knew back then that his brother was just getting over the loss of Sir Elric Goddard, which he took badly even if he didn't want to admit it. But Conrad was certain that Elric and Tawny were never meant to be in Wolfram's life for very long. Back then, none of them, his brother included, were mature or responsible in any way. It was just a matter of loneliness. Being with someone was better than being alone. And after the thrill was gone, it was gone. Yuuri, on the other hand, was a different case. Conrad had seen a great deal of change, of growth, of kindness…due to their time together.

True love had a way of doing that.

Tawny watched the emotions, as subtle as they were, flicker in Conrad's eyes. She found herself drawn to them. Wolfram had the same habit as his older brother, internalizing everything and telling nothing of any real importance. She took a misstep, blinked at him, and the spell was broken.

She chewed her lip a little, feeling embarrassed to be with Wolfram's brother. "I'm sorry you have to dance with me," she said, looking down at her feet.

"I'm not," Conrad replied with his usual politeness, "because it was nice to see you again." _And it was nice to watch Yuuri make a decision about Wolfram._

Conrad's eyes turned to the back door just in time to see a black suit of clothes disappear through it.

* * *

Wolfram was walking. In fact, he wasn't sure where he was going exactly. But, some part of him was saying "anywhere but here." So, he listened to that part of himself. It was hurting and pulling him forward. And, as rude as he knew that it was, Wolfram simply left the party without giving it another thought because he didn't belong there anymore.

Wolfram walked down stone steps that he knew so well from his childhood. He'd memorized the number of them, the color, and the awkward angles that came from being old and settled. He looked up into the night sky. It was beautiful and a bit lonely. Just as in childhood, he ached for company. No, more than that. He wanted someone to be with him, to enjoy this moment, too, but he knew that it was a ridiculous thought.

The blond looked at the path he was following. It forked into two directions. Should he go right? Left?

"Left it is."

The blond walked down a path leading into the rose garden. He pretended that he wasn't alone after all. There was someone by his side, someone who put him first and wanted to simply enjoy being together. That _someone_ would have ebony hair with eyes to match.

_A ridiculous thought._

He continued on but at a slower pace. Wolfram walked past the white shrub roses and picked one. He sniffed it as he continued, and then placed the five petaled flower behind his left ear. His imaginary lover would tell him how handsome he was by starlight. He would pretend to blush a little and murmur a soft but sincere "thank you." Maybe they'd hold hands at this point.

"Wolfram?"

The blond was startled out of his thoughts. He blinked at the shape of a man approaching.

He squinted back along the path where he'd just come from. "Shinou?" Wolfram said, eyeing the Original King as he stepped forward.

"I thought I would only be watching you tonight," he said with a faint chuckle at the end of the sentence.

Still sick from his ordeals, Wolfram knew he needed a place to sit down before his body started to wobble. His eyes spied an ornate garden bench not far from where he was standing. He sighed to himself wearily, approached the bench, and sat on it with all the grace he could muster under the circumstances. He held his ribs tightly and forced himself to sit, taking a slow breath. "Can I help you with something?" Wolfram placed his elbow on one knee, rested his chin in his hand, and looked up dully.

"You're still unwell?"

Wolfram shrugged it off. "Why are you out here? The party's still going on inside?" He motioned in the direction of the castle.

Wolfram cocked his head to one side and asked, "Why are you here? Was Murata at the party and I missed seeing him?"

"No," Shinou said with a bit of a rough edge to it, "my sage decided to stay at the temple tonight. He's just getting back on good terms with Yuuri Heika. So, he decided not to push matters."

"R-i-g-h-t," Wolfram stretched the word out. "Now, I'd like to hear the real reason."

Shinou folded his arms defensively and muttered, "Cleaning time at the temple."

"Oh," he said disinterestedly "cleaning…time…temple… Whoa! Wait! You mean 'Night of the Temple Purification?'" Wolfram's face broke into a wicked, wide grin directed at Shinou.

"Yes, that," Shinou huffed a little.

"They kicked you out, didn't they?" Wolfram chuckled darkly. "All spirits are asked to visit their loved ones while the temple is being physically and spiritually cleansed."

"Yes, I _know_," Shinou gritted out.

"Wearing nothing but short…very short…white ceremonial robes…"

"Yes."

"With nothing underneath."

Shinou answered with a glare.

Wolfram shook his head in understanding. "I hear that all who live at the temple must participate. Which _means_ that The Great Sage is…"

Shinou frowned back, mentally blocking out the image of Murata Ken wearing a white matching robe-ette surrounded by scantily clad temple maidens leaning over and pushing brooms and mops.

Wolfram chuckled a bit and said, "So, I'm the relative you've chosen to visit on this night." He pushed a strand of blond hair behind his ear. "Though, you could have visited Mother."

"An honor, to be sure…however," Shinou said, getting back to business.

"You want to talk about something." Wolfram watched the stars again, wishing he could be alone with his fantasy. Maybe, by now, they'd both be sitting on this very same stone bench sharing a kiss.

"It would be best."

_Killjoy_, Wolfram thought tartly.

Shinou's cape fluttered over one shoulder. He straightened it a little before speaking and then his eyes caught it. There was an aura—a very familiar aura—heading their way. It seemed to be awkward and unsure. _Yuuri Heika? Hmmm… This could work out better than I thought. And after all the teasing Wolfram's put me through, a little payback could be…fun._

"So, go ahead," Wolfram grimaced. "If you're going to say something…? You're quiet…a little too quiet."

"I had to come see you," Shinou said, his eyes darting back. The path Wolfram had come from stretched into a yawning blackness. Nonetheless, he could feel the aura slowing as it approached.

"Why?" Wolfram said, trying not to bark. "You're not going to pull me into that dark place again and show me more images of the future."

_Oh, you've finally done it, _Shinou's grin widened.

"Yes, I came to ask _why_ you've chosen poorly."

* * *

Yuuri slowed as the path he was taking began to widen as it passed through the rose garden. It was still dark where he was standing. The shrubs hid him well—stretching out branches that needed trimming again. But it didn't take much to see what was up ahead. Wolfram had company—a semi-transparent, almost filmy—Shinou.

He stopped.

_Maybe I should go_, Yuuri thought. _I don't want to overhear anyone else's conversations. I'm so tired of it. This is how trouble starts anyway._

He turned to leave and heard, "Wolfram, I showed you two possible futures. Why did you pick the wrong one?"

Yuuri turned back.

"I didn't choose the wrong one," Wolfram barked. "I did what Yuuri wanted…what he needed. It's for the best."

The double black shook his head at that. _Shinou showed him what was to come? _

There was a knowing smirk. Shinou moved a little so that his back was in full view of Yuui. Wolfram's eyes followed the Original King, and now a "you've got me" blush came from the young blond soldier. "You just don't get it…and I… I mean…"

"Not comfortable with your decision?" Shinou prompted.

As if convincing himself, he continued with the words "Yuuri will get married to…I'm sure…a wonderful woman. How could he not? He's so damned easy to love…even if he is a wimp." Emerald eyes filled with tears. "He'll have someone to hold him at night…children…a life!"

"Without you."

Wolfram nodded.

"How long do you have to live?" Shinou asked, his head tilted to one side. His voice no longer had the pompous tones of a self-important monarch. It was actually fatherly.

"You saw that, too, huh?" Wolfram said, trying to force some kind of normalcy into his tone. He rubbed tears away with the back of his hand. There was no casual gesture that could disguise it. So, he gave up. "My tombstone's date of death is a little over two years from now."

Yuuri's heart stopped. _How could he not tell me this?_ He balled up a fist so hard it shook.

"Two years," Wolfram said with a wry smile. "It will be enough. I have that much with him. And I'll be grateful…this time, I really will be."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." Wolfram's face frowned deeply. He looked at the ground. "It wasn't really a hard choice because the other future was torture."

In the shadows, Yuuri paced and Shinou could feel the aura moving back and forth. The older man smirked and bated Wolfram a little more. Yes, he knew both of the visions in his water-mirrors. He had, in fact, created them. He'd seen all, knew all.

"And the other future…?"

Wolfram lowered his head, defeated. "It…uh…"

Shinou put his hand to his ear. "I'm sorry. I can't hear you…"

"The other future was…what I always wanted and, yet, it was nothing that I wanted."

A mature, blond eyebrow raised itself up. In the shadows, Yuuri stared at Wolfram with desperate eyes.

"I saw our wedding day—mine, Yuuri's. He's standing there in black, royal wedding clothes… looking absolutely handsome…and absolutely…_miserable_. I don't know how his arm was twisted into agreeing to this marriage, but he's there against his will. Everybody knows it. I could see Yuuri's brother standing beside him, fuming. His father looked uncomfortable. And, only his mother seemed glad."

"But this marriage is all you've ever talked about…"

Wolfram nodded absently at that. "Yes."

He stretched his legs a little and then continued, "But it was a mistake. And I knew it…walking down the isle next to him…I knew it, but did nothing because I was finally getting my way. But the wedding was so sad. No matter what I did or said, I couldn't make him happy." Wolfram felt himself getting sick inside. "And I don't even want to remember the wedding night." Wolfram's green eyes filled with tears again. He hugged himself. "In the end, I lived in constant jealousy and anger…knowing that he'd never love me the way I wanted him to…and…then…I broke his spirit. And over the years, being to damn determined to keep his word to me and never divorce me…" Wolfram looked up at starlight, tears sliding down. "I turned him into the 'cheater' that I said he always was. Yuuri becomes this other person…bitter…frightening…even Maou Heika changed."

A tear dripped down from Wolfram's chin. "Ironic, isn't it? To be beautiful and to be wanted by everyone…everyone except the one person who matters most." He brushed another tear away from his face with his hand. "Let's face it… Marriage is just a piece of paper on Yuuri's desk to sign. And I'd rather be dead, and have his respect, than to see him become the cheating monster in the second vision."

Shinou cut his eyes back in Yuuri's direction. "You could have discussed it with him and…"

"And not determined my future for me!" Yuuri shouted, stomping forward out of the darkness and towards Wolfram.

He'd finally had enough.

Wolfram stared at the charging figure of his ex-fiancé. The young man was dressed in black silk with a high white collar and sharp angled sleeves peeking out from his dress coat. His eyes were black but on fire. His face was quickly darkening to a shade of red that it almost never turned. And Wolfram was, for the moment, taken aback. Almost frightened.

"Wolfram, answer me!" he yelled again.

Shinou smirked and made a very discrete exit. He'd done his job. Now, he'd sneak back into the temple and into a certain sage's dreams.

The young blond sucked in a breath, his eyes locked on Yuuri.

"I can't believe you'd keep this kind of secret from me!" the double black yelled. "I thought we were a lot closer to each other than that."

Wolfram turned his eyes away. He toyed briefly with the lace peeking out from the sleeve of his creamy white dress coat.

"You were never supposed to know," he mumbled.

"Obviously!" He paced a little, casting Wolfram angry side glances. "Was that the deal you made with Shinou?" Yuuri said hotly.

"No, I've made a deal with him about something else, but it has nothing to do with this." He leaned back on the bench. "I think Shinou was trying to make it up to me…that he kept possessing my body without consent… by letting me pick my future."

Yuuri sat down on the bench next to Wolfram, still angry and looking down at his shoes. It was easier that way. "I thought the problem was me this whole time," Yuuri grumbled, still feeling a fiery burn deep in his chest.

"It still is," Wolfram said softly, "but I add to it."

Yuuri flashed him a dark look and then went back to contemplating his shoelaces—wherever they were. And in the inky blackness of the evening, he was certain that they were, indeed, down there somewhere.

Wolfram shook his head. "Don't pretend that you know me or understand me. It would be pointless."

"I do know you now…maybe even better than you think."

Wolfram gave him a disbelieving huff.

The double black rested his hands on his knees. "I've watched you over the past few weeks. And I know how you see the world and me…and just about everything else. I've been thinking of it all as your 'life lessons.' Not that I agree with them, but I can understand why you feel the way you do."

Wolfram just looked at him levelly.

"Don't believe me? Okay…"

He began to count them off:

"The first one is _Everyone that you love will leave you—eventually_. And that's why, even now, you're trying to let me go."

Wolfram looked away. He just couldn't meet the double black's stare.

"And, then, there's the next one, Wolfram:

_To show someone that you truly care, seek them out and be bossy. Attention equals love. _I finally realized that when you weren't around. And, to be honest, I like the attention you give me. I feel included, needed. Just don't go overboard, okay?"

This time, Yuuri could feel his anger draining away. He scooted closer to Wolfram. "Which leads us to: _Don't tell people what's really bothering you. It makes them pity you. _You hate pity, I know that. But 'pity' isn't all that I've ever felt for you."

The double black noticed that emerald green eyes were looking at him. Yes, for once, he had the blond's attention without a comeback. He watched Wolfram tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. Then, Wolfram scooted over a little closer to him.

" _If you love someone, you give them the power to hurt you. _That's true for everybody, Wolfram. It's not just you. And then, there's… _Keep everyone at a distance so that no one can get close enough to hurt you."_ Yuuri narrowed his eyes and said,_ "I_ won't accept this…not for you…and not for me."

Yuuri glanced at Wolfram again. He just couldn't resist looking at that face—even if it was tear streaked and lonely.

"Finally, there's _Disguise pain as anger so that you don't appear weak. Nobody loves a weakling." _He touched Wolfram's face, stroking the cheek with his thumb._ " _It's not weak if you tell people you're hurting. It means you trust them. Trust…and honesty matter."

There was hurt in those black eyes. "I wish you'd been _honest_ with me."

"Honest?" Wolfram said in a hollow tone. "And have you by my side out of pity? No thank you."

"It's not pity," Yuuri growled. "When will you figure that out?" He wanted to tear his hair. He really did. Did Wolfram _try_ to be this dense?

"You didn't see the vision I saw…the person I made you become…" He could feel himself wanting to cry again. _It was like I killed you—without a single weapon, I did it…and we all suffered._ Wolfram turned to him and took his hand. His heart beat a little harder when he felt Yuuri squeeze it back. But Yuuri needed to understand. "I want you to be happy and to have everything you've ever dreamed of." He leaned forward, emerald eyes into onyx. "I want you to find someone who will mean everything to you." A blond head rested on a black shoulder. "I want you to have everything—not because you're the maou, but because you…are…you."

Arms circled around Wolfram's waist, pulling him close. "Two years… It's not enough," Yuuri whispered.

"It will be."

Yuuri's chest squeezed tightly as he asked, "How did you die?"

"Uh…Yuuri…don't…"

He rested his head against Wolfram's and nuzzled softly. The scent of sunflowers came to him. "Tell me…_please_?"

The blond sighed and said, "I could never really resist your '_pleases_,' could I?" Wolfram kicked himself for being so weak. He'd never open himself up to someone else that easily. "Fine," he said. "In the vision, I recognized it. The village… not far from here. I've been through it on patrols. Only, this time, someone…probably several 'someones' have set fire to it. The homes are sacked, burned to the ground, and the people killed—men, women, the elderly—everyone. I hear a noise coming from something that looks like a root cellar. I go to investigate and…" He closed his eyes tightly and held onto Yuuri. "I'm not afraid to die, you know. I accepted that fate the day I became a soldier…long before I met you. And if I protect the kingdom, I protect you." But Wolfram still clung to Yuuri anyway. "It's just that letting go will be hard for me."

Yuuri pulled Wolfram into his chest and held him—stroking blond hair, his vision far away. "The killer was in the cellar?"

"No…hiding behind a nearby tree..." He took a shaky breath and said with a wet voice, "The next thing I knew, the point of a sword was sliding out of my chest and, looking up, I saw Gerard standing in front of me…this horrified look on his face… with my blood all over him."

Yuuri held back a sob.

"It was like…red rain."

The grip was tighter and almost painful. But Wolfram didn't mind. He needed it.

"Well, I'm not letting that happen," Yuuri said with determination. "We'll find a way."

Wolfram wiped his face with his hand. The tears were beginning to cool and they tickled slightly. He could feel his nose running, too. He gave it a gentle rub.

"Well, I'm not marrying you, either," Wolfram countered with a hollow voice.

There was a soft chuckle. "That's what you think."

"That's what I _know_."

"And if I'm the one who wants the marriage?"

"The answer would still be 'no' because I'm that difficult to live with."

Yuuri laughed a little at that. "Tell me about it. And you're the worst bed partner, too."

"Oh, thank you very much," he growled half-heartedly which was followed by a pout.

"You're welcome," Yuuri said almost brightly as he neared Wolfram's face. He could see a bright pink blush coming to him when it happened. He placed both hands on a porcelain face and smudged away tears with his thumbs.

The double black's hands were warm.

"Yuuri…I…"

Their lips were coming closer. "Is there a problem, Wolf?" He whispered it.

Wolfram's heart was beating harder, much harder. "I think we…somehow…made up."

"I think so, too." Yuuri brushed his lips against the blond's. It was soft and much, much too brief.

Arms snaked around his waist. The grip tightened on Wolfram, who suddenly found himself lifted up and plopped down right in Yuuri's lap. He made an adorable "eep" sound which earned him another gentle squeeze around the waist with strong arms.

The blond winced, but tried to hide it. He was still terribly sore and aching thanks to Marelda. Suddenly, he felt hands exploring his waist and moving up his chest through the silky material. Wolfram didn't resist in the slightest. And the cuddling that followed, he didn't want to stop. Then, the blond looked around them. "What if someone sees?"

"It's okay, we're engaged." He stroked Wolfram's chest through the soft material again—this time, with an index finger. It felt like little hearts.

"Oh, it's okay for you," Wolfram grumbled, but draped an arm around the double black's shoulders. "You're sitting here normally, the way all people do, on a bench. But I'm here in your lap."

With one hand, Yuuri tugged at the button that fastened Wolfram's collar. It popped open. Green eyes widened when the next button was toyed with and then freed. The collar fell back. The third button…gone. A finger dipped in and felt smooth skin.

"Is that a complaint, Wolf?"

There was a warm puff in his ear with the question.

"I'm…I…I mean…" he stammered, tilting his head back and fighting the urge to give in.

The double black enjoyed it.

"Okay, have it your way," Yuuri said.

Wolfram felt a bit disappointed when he found himself being released. Sad…until he felt his body being pushed back and lowered against the length of the bench. Yuuri's body now on top of him. The weight pressed down deliciously.

Green eyes shot open. _Damn_ _it! My ribs! Has he forgotten how sore they are? _Tears started coming to his eyes. _I can't tell him though…!_

"Better?" he said casually, his hands resting on Wolfram's shoulders.

Wolfram's face turned beet red with eyes wide and shaking. "And you think this is BETTER? How can this be better?!" he squeaked incredulously.

"Well…?" The double black gave a wide, devilish grin back. Wolfram was pinned beneath him. _Good._ He enjoyed the sight of blond hair fanned out against the narrow slats of the wooden bench. Yuuri took a lock of hair between his fingers and rubbed the ends between his thumb and forefinger seductively.

Wolfram had to fight with himself to focus.

"I mean…what if…? If someone else…the nobles…the maids…_Gwendal_!"

Yuuri leaned his face in and began kissing Wolfram's neck—adding little nips along the way down. Almost immediately, a throaty purr came from the blond. Wolfram just couldn't help himself. It was so easy to give in.

His fingers twisted into black hair, encouraging him.

Yuuri murmured into the satin skin of his fiancé, "Let them see… Then, they'll know for certain that you are definitely not Wolfram the Undesirable."

* * *


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36

Wolfram, still looking pale and tired, braced himself by putting an arm across his aching ribs. Gingerly, he sat down on a cushioned bench seat next to an ornate, bubbling indoor fountain. It was a relief to get off his feet.

Sounds drew his attention.

_Marching?_

Six shrine maidens, armed with spears, were on patrol. They marched past the door to the private meeting room which was open ajar.

Wolfram shifted his attention to the fountain's blue water. Water always reminded him of his fiancé. He smiled to himself. _Yuuri was_ _surprisingly passionate last night…on the bench…in the dark… It was great…Yuuri on top, unbuttoning my shirt, grinding his hips into me, leaving red marks down the side of my neck…nips…bites…hot breath against me…really great…until Mother found us. Sheesh! Did she have to squeal so loud? She got the attention of every guard on the grounds. Out of the shrubs, swords were pointed at us. Conrad's, too! Then, I looked up to see people, still at the party, had their noses pressed to the windows…including Greta. _He grimaced at that thought._ Our own daughter saw us making out…wide eyes and everything! I never caught my parents at it…ever! _He let his head drop down with a groan. His shoulders slumped_. Yuuri went from "wondrous" to "wimp" in ten seconds flat. Apologizing, he almost shoved me off the bench when he straightened up. "Oh, let them see…" Yuuri said before we got caught. Brave talk, no follow-through. _Wolfram bit his lower lip at the memory_. Then again, I'm not sure I was really ready for it…even now, I think I'd stop him before he got too far. "Time" seemed to be what he always wanted. Now, "time" is what I need to get used to this…whatever "this" is... _Wolfram let go of the sigh he was holding._ Still… He's changed, I think, for the better. Maybe, we both have…_

He tucked a strand of blond hair behind his ear. His smile, a wry one_. This morning, though, …with it being just us again…Yuuri was 'attentive.' But he backed off quickly enough when he remembered that I'm still not well enough to do anything too romantic. _Then, his smile faded._ Plus, I've been alone for a really long time…waiting for him to love me. And, well… _He felt a blush coming to him. _I mean... that didn't stop us from having a bit of fun anyway. Who knew that those "Shinou" memories would come in so handy?_

More shrine maidens. Their footsteps were in unison, making a marching sound that commanded respect. Even though he didn't exactly approve of their uniforms, which were not military in his opinion (He once called it the "jiggle patrol."), Wolfram did have to acknowledge, if begrudgingly, how well they wielded their spears. He'd seen some of them training outside as he rode up in the carriage.

The carriage. He shook his head grimly at that. He liked carriages, except in the heat of summer, and rode in them often. But, for now, it felt like he was being trapped in a small room with the world moving by—one he was not a part of. Wolfram frowned at the thought. He needed to relax, just like Gisela said. He would get better faster if he did.

Wolfram took a breath and let it out slowly. He told himself that it was a pleasant morning and that he should be enjoying the feeling of not being fussed over in Yuuri's bed. Another one of Yuuri's surprising turnarounds was his new, and very open, insistence that Wolfram sleep in the royal chambers so that he could watch over his fiancé at night—every night—forever, it seemed. And Wolfram had a steady stream of visitors: a strict Gisela, his mother (who made him blush reminding him of the now notorious "bench incident," an amused looking Conrad, a very sour and stern Gwendal (who was very well aware of the "bench incident"), and a 'oh-I'm-finally-getting-married-parents' grinning Greta. So, this moment alone was a treat. And waiting for Murata in the private meeting room with cushioned bench seats, an indoor fountain, and softly blowing white curtains really wasn't a bother. It was a jaunt. A mini vacation.

"One of the shrine maidens said you'd be here," Murata murmured, as though to himself, as he entered. He made a half-hearted attempt at closing the door behind him with a careless swing. And, when it didn't shut, he ruffled his hair awkwardly with a childish smirk. It didn't matter anyway.

Wolfram turned and, almost immediately, winced at the movement. He folded his arms across his ribs casually, but his breath hitched anyway.

_Still not one hundered percent, are you?_ the sage thought. _Well, that's to be expected._

"So, what can I do for you? It must be pretty important for you to come all the way to the temple." Murata asked, approaching the blond with his hands in his pockets. Deep down, he had already guessed the topic. But, he wanted to hear Wolfram say it himself.

"It's about Shinou," Wolfram replied. "I gave him my word that I would speak to you if I survived all of this. And, before you ask, it wasn't a condition of letting me live."

Murata's glasses gleamed and his eyes were unreadable. He pushed the spectacles up the bridge of his nose this time because it gave him something to do while he thought about his response. He forced his usual serene smile on his face.

It was exactly what he'd guessed. His dark eyes had a hardening edge. Yes, the distinct lack of "Shinou," around him today could now be explained. The sage glanced around.

The blond watched Murata's expressions, and almost at once, he could feel the aura change in the room. He wondered, briefly, if Shinou was watching from some unknown corner that he couldn't see. He probably was.

"You know," Wolfram began and turned his head to the sage, "Shinou has been possessing me…off and on…for awhile now. Sometimes, it was to stir up trouble. Sometimes, it was to spare me pain. And, even though I couldn't remember who I was or what I was doing, Shinou always left me with something in its place." Wolfram looked down at his polished boots and took in a quick breath. He really needed to say this and get it overwith. "As I've told you before, he gave me some of his memories..." The blond glanced up and then back down again. "I've seen your life together…been there, actually."

Murata didn't respond to that, and Wolfram didn't expect him to.

"Could you…forgive him…?" Wolfram's voice trailed away as he asked the question. He knew that it was really none of his business, after all. And, considering the circumstances, he was probably the worst candidate for this job.

To his surprise, Murata's usually sweet natured face changed into one of barely masked anger and pain.

_Enough!_ the sage thought savagely with an ancient voice inside his head. Another part of him weeped and begged for it all to stop. _How long will it take to move on?_ Another felt an icy patch where his heart should have been. Then, with his next breath, Murata chastised himself for his lack of self-control. This was stupid, after all. He was a teenager again—Murata Ken. This life had just begun. He should play and have fun. He never even had a real girlfriend. It was a fresh start! _A fresh start! _This life was given to him, and he wanted to make the best of it. No worries; no regrets.

The blond watched his face again. The struggle. He understood the feelings well—too well. "You know, for the longest time, I called Yuuri a 'cheater.' And you always seemed amused by that. But, after getting some of Shinou's memories, I realized that the real 'cheater' here was, indeed, Shinou. And the person he hurt most was…the sage."

Black eyes narrowed at him. A hand on his hip, dark material bunching up.

"Okay…The Original Great Sage," Wolfram corrected himself.

Murata walked two steps and tilted his head, looking away. He had to calm himself down because, no matter what would be said in the next few minutes, nothing of the past—not a single event—would change. "It was a long time ago. I barely remember it myself." The standard lines. The standard excuses. Distance. He needed distance. Murata tried to sound neutral, but it didn't work.

"Then, you're stronger than I am," Wolfram admitted quietly and got a shocked glance from Murata.

The blond soldier tried to shrug before the ribs reminded him that it was a really bad idea. "It's true. If Yuuri cheated on me, and I saw it with my own eyes the way you did, it would have destroyed me." Green eyes looked into black ones sincerely. "Even though I'm the product of it, the descendent of his infidelity… with Rufus…which is why I look like them, and why you and I have never really gotten along… I'm sorry for what he did. And he's sorry, too."

Dark eyes held back pain. "Rufus loved him with a passion."

"So did the sage."

"It's in the past," Murata repeated, trying to convince himself while giving Wolfram a new look that told him quite clearly that he'd stuck a toe over the line and this conversation was now coming to an abrupt end after he had one final say on the matter. "Besides being frightfully boring my whole life back then and being with someone who was…shall we say… 'more adventurous'… how it all ended is not surprising and forgiveness isn't an issue anymore." He shook his head sadly, almost defeated. "It's enough. You couldn't possibly understand. So, just leave it."

"Enough?" the blond said with a mirthful curve coming to his lips.

Another raised eyebrow.

Wolfram forced back a grin and said with eyes dancing, "Yes, I'd say that I know enough." He leaned forward in Murata's direction and said seductively, "You…Shinou…a tent… Olive oil, candle wax, an incense burner, three body pillows, and an apricot."

Murata paled. He did.

"Back then, you had an arrow-shaped scar on your…well…" The blond scratched his chin thoughtfully. "And, now that I think about it… How were you able to keep one foot in the air like that for so long? The tent had a really low ceiling, you know." Still seated, he started to demonstrate, but it was a pathetic display because his bruised ribs ached.

The sage blushed deeply, nervously and then changed the subject. "Well, I've got to let you go now. Sorry about that…" He turned away.

"And speaking of 'sorry'…if it's any consolation," Wolfram added, refusing to be dismissed so easily, "I had to forgive Shinou for a few things myself. So, we have that in common, too." He leaned back a bit to take the pressure off. He crossed his ankles.

Murata darkened. "You keep telling me to forgive him," he muttered. _You, of all people_. He shoved his hands in his pockets again.

Wolfram groaned a "yes" while standing up stiffly. Even with an aching body, the blond was determined to appear normal again. Maybe, it was a Shinou-like pride that made him to do it. He forced a casual stroll for the door. "And, do you want to know why? It's because we always end up forgiving the people we love no matter how many times they hurt us."

The sage watched him go. "Why do we keep doing that, I wonder?"

He thought that he hadn't said it loud enough to be heard, but he was wrong.

The blond chuckled and kept walking. "Because the red thread of fate isn't a noose. It isn't a tug of war, either. It's a lifeline."

"Then, you…know?"

Wolfram nodded but kept going. "Yuuri…this morning. He told me everything."

Boots echoed across the stone floor—fading away.

The sage unclenched his fist.

"W-Wait."

At first, Wolfram thought it was a trick of the echo. That the word hadn't been said. But, Murata's voice followed him. "I said, '_Wait_.'"

Military-style, Wolfram forced his body to make a halt with a click of the heel. His back was still to the sage. "Yes?" He turned around with a bit of effort to look back.

Murata raised his right arm and offered him his hand, head bowed in a submissive way that reminded him of Yuuri.

Wolfram smirked to himself. _If that's the way you want it._ He approached Murata and, without any hesitation at all, took the hand offered to him. Then, he glanced over his shoulder. "Shinou…I know you're watching from somewhere."

"Wait a minute…" Murata said, eyeing him closely. "I thought that Ulrike and I were the only ones here who could sense him without laying eyes him. But I haven't been able to today."

"Well, you see," Wolfram said and glanced down at their clasped hands, "we've been together for awhile, Shinou and I. It's one of the things you learn from being with him."

Murata smirked. "True."

"Come on, Shinou. I haven't got all day," Wolfram complained. Then he added, "And I've got a few choice words for you later on about those false visions you showed me in the water mirrors."

There was a dark laugh as Shinou emerged from the left corner of the room. "It got the job done, huh?" He strode majestically, his cape waving slightly with the soft movement of his thick, blond hair. His strides were even and calculated. With a devilish smirk, he walked up behind Wolfram and stepped into his body with a small burst of blue, fuzzy lights.

Murata swatted at the glowing tufts of brilliant blue. "Show-off."

In front of the sage, the blonds merged and Wolfram's emerald green eyes, much like Rufus', changed into blue. The face grew slightly older, what the Mazoku would probably look like in another twenty-five years, and hair longer, but the body no taller. Both young men were practically eye to eye.

Shinou took his clasped hand and laced fingers with the sage. To his delight, Murata let him.

"I sense that you're being very conservative with your magic in possessing Wolfram. Why?" Murata asked, slightly suspicious as he looked into blue eyes. "Is it because he's loaning his body to you of his own free will…_this time_?" He made sure to emphasize "_this time_."

Shinou got the point and told him so with an impatient look. Then, it faded from his face. His gaze turned from the sage to the bubbling fountain. His eyes grew wide, his tone contemplative. "Not exactly…" Wolfram and Shinou's voices blurred awkwardly together for a brief moment. Finally, Wolfram's voice, alone, stood out when he turned back and said, "It's because, I'm afraid, my apology will be a lengthy one. I have thousands of years of confessions to make."

"Such dramatics…" He swung their laced hands a little and looked at Shinou. The blond wasn't joking, or, at the very least, appeared on the surface not to be. The sage took a slow, deep breath. This could be one of those rare moments when the king was serious…and slightly vulnerable. "An apology? And you think… I won't accept…?"

A blond head nodded at him. "I loved you first. Trusted you always. Needed you forever. I was _power_ and you were _thought_."

Murata sighed and pushed back his glasses with a finger. "You mean, you were _ambition_ and I was _insight_." Then, without actually realizing it, he took half a step in Shinou's direction. "But if I had been truly insightful, then I would have followed my first impression—the hope of you being faithful was asking too much."

He raised his free hand and stroked the sage's cheek with his thumb. Soft. "I'm not good with apologies, you now."

Murata gave a skeptical look, ignoring the affection. "You've never given one before—to anyone."

"I know," he said hoarsely, dropping his hand.

The sage cocked his head to one side, waiting.

"But I am _sorry_, though." Tears formed at the edges of Wolfram's eyes. "Actually, I've been sorry for more years than I was ever alive."

"I-I know that," Murata said quietly, lowering his head. _He really did it. He apologized._ Murata's face felt warm.

"You are my secret fiancé…still." Shinou blinked back tears and searched Murata's face for something, some kind of recognition. "The only person I've ever truly wanted… The only person I can't let go. The other half of my soul…" Tears were hanging on the edges of his lashes. "My punishment is this…being able to see you and talk to you…even when you hate me this much…and to never hold you as before."

Murata felt the blond rest his forehead against his own. "Hell is this place. Hell is this half-life with you…and _not with you_."

Their lips were close now. "Even if you don't accept it, and my love for you is one-sided, I will still care for you deeply in this life that you have."

With regret, Murata said, "We're tied together with the string of fate."

Shinou closed his eyes at that. "I can't cut it—even to set you free, I can't. So, don't ask me to."

"I thought you'd say that." Murata's arms found their way around a slim waist. "So, who was it," he asked with pain in his voice, " …that you were originally bound to?" It felt like he was shredding his own soul just asking the question, but knew he'd regret it if he didn't. It was something that had been haunting him.

He guessed who it was.

"Ah…a question," Shinou said softly, wrapping his arms around Murata's shoulders for comfort and pulling him closer. He pressed his lips against his neck and felt a shiver. "The person I was tied to, by the red string, was called…._The Great Sage_."

Murata's eyes shot open and he leaned back. "No! _You_ tied us together."

"No," Shinou said, shifting his weight a little, "you just always assumed it because I had the power to do it in the first place. And the red string can only be tied _before_ someone is born, not after."

"But…all this time…I thought…" Murata's mind couldn't wrap itself around the concept. They were meant to be.

"I know what you thought. I let you think it…to despise me…because it was easier than asking forgiveness," Shinou said. "If you hated me, spurned me…tried to hurt me…" He leaned in again, resting his blond head against his sage. "At the end of my life, I even let you take my soul…in a moment that was just the two of us." Then a sad smile came to him. "At the very least, you would never forget me."

Murata's eyes widened.

Shinou pulled him in closer. Their lips were a breath apart. "And, when the time comes…and you find someone to love in this life…someone who can hold you like this and make you feel wanted, I promise to disappear. You deserve, at least, that much."

He stroked short, ebony hair whispering the name "Murata Ken."

"Isn't that for me to decide?" he asked. He leaned forward to brush his lips against Shinou's. To his surprise, Shinou pulled away.

"I don't think Murata Ken's first kiss should be…" Shinou never finished his sentence.

The sage kissed Shinou softly, sweetly, his fingers clinging to a blue uniform. Their lips took in each slight movement. And Shinou, seeing that the sage's eyes were closed, closed his as well. Another kiss, but a bit harder this time. And, again, to Shinou's surprise, Murata suddenly deepened the kiss and, placing fingers on the blond's back, moved them up in little trails and then made soft patterns on his back.

Shinou hummed with approval.

Murata broke kiss and looked at Shinou seriously. "Do you know, it just occurred to me that I'm kissing both Shinou and Wolfram right now?"

"Yes, you are." His tone had a dark, sexy edge…but with Wolfram's voice. He tightened his grip on the sage.

Murata narrowed his eyes. "There are _three_ of us in the one kiss," he repeated in a scandalous whisper. "You know…a _threesome_."

A cocky grin. His sage was so shy. "Agreed. But Wolfram understands."

"Wolfram…_understands_?" His voice almost broke when he squeaked it.

"Fun, isn't it?"

"We are such pervs," Murata mumbled, giving in to Shinou. A deep blush was coming to him.

"Yes, we are." The blond wiggled an eyebrow. "But only for the next few minutes. Then, I have to return. That's when they change the guard. And those women can be awful gossips—plus, I promised Wolfram I'd go."

The sage looked up with eager eyes. "Kiss me again."

"Gladly."

The door was open ajar. Two shrine maidens on patrol practically dropped their spears when they glanced into the meeting room and saw Wolfram von Bielefeld kissing The Great Sage with one hand clasped desperately on his lower back and the other fisted into his ebony hair.

The sage moaned. He never could stay quiet.

"Mmm… Don't stop…" Murata arched his back.

Muttering came from the hallway.

Blue eyes shot to the door. "I'm sorry my dear sage," he whispered against slick lips, "but, as I promised, I must dash now." A slow, wet, deep kiss followed. Murata melted into him; his body pulsed against the blond.

In seconds, Shinou sped away and into the penumbra—leaving Wolfram and Murata still at it.

_Eh? What am I…doing?_

_Huh? Oh, no he didn't! Damn!_

"I hate you, Shinou," Wolfram grumbled with a mouthful of Murata.

"Me, too…"

The blond rubbed his slightly bruised lips together and narrowed his green eyes. "And we will _never_ speak of this," Wolfram growled, nose to nose with the sage. They were both still in each other's arms and breathing hard, chests rising and falling.

"Agreed."

"And you can get your hand off my ass now."

_.Squeeze._

* * *

**Author's note**: The next chapter will be the final chapter of "Seasons." See ya!

* * *


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37

* * *

**Final Author's note:**

Thanks so much to everyone who took the time to read and respond to "Seasons." I know you probably got tired of hearing me say this, but I truly appreciated it. Seriously! Of all the stories out there, you chose to read mine. And the feedback that you gave me was very helpful—especially the plot points that you liked. And, some of you asked questions that I kept so that I could review them later and add them into the story—with answers, of course.

So, whether you read this in English or Spanish (thanks to kotori-chan88 and petula petunia), you were a wonderful part of this experience for me.

As always,

HARPGO :)

* * *

Seasons of Beautiful Wolfram

Final Chapter

"Love bears it out even to the edge of doom." --Shakespeare

* * *

"We got up too early, Yuuri," the blond moaned, covering a yawn. "It's hard to stay awake even after eating all that food at breakfast."

Yuuri and Wolfram were sitting on the bench—_their_ garden bench—enjoying the cool morning before attending the trial. The double black noted with an inward chuckle that his fiancé was out of his schedule and was struggling to keep his dark green eyes open.

_Green eyes_. He smirked at that. Some wild rumor had been circulating lately that Wolfram with glowing _blue_ eyes, spiked hair, and a hellish grin had grabbed the innocent sage and was seen giving him massive hickeys in the temple when they were alone. The story went on to say that Murata had protested at first but was forced to give in to the much stronger full demon. Yuuri reminded himself that it was best to quit listening to wild rumors—like the one where Conrad, in a cat outfit, and Yozak, in a maid outfit, had been caught smooching on the stairs leading to the highest turret in the castle. That one had to be a load of garbage, too, because: 1) there was no reason to be up there, 2) Conrad wasn't the "dress up" type, and 3) having stone steps crunched into your back couldn't be at all comfortable. Then, Yuuri thought about it again. Maybe Yozak was, indeed, tougher than people thought he was. Still, the rumor about the wild "hickey giving Wolfram" had to be a total and complete lie because he saw Murata just last night at dinner and there wasn't a mark on him. Yuuri quirked a grin when he remembered that Wolfram avoided the sage like the plague. He must have heard the rumor, too. _Poor guy._

The blond was half asleep now. His head nodded slowly down only to be knocked back again when he felt himself falling forward. He did it again and heard a faint chuckle to his left. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew it was Yuuri but didn't care. Wolfram was too tired and the tone of the chuckle was good natured.

_Ignore it…_ Zzzz….

Green eyes opened, half lidded, when he felt a strong hand rest gently against his head, guiding it to a warm shoulder. Wolfram snuggled in close to the dark material and the ebony hair. Arms circled his shoulders. Yuuri must have washed his hair with vanilla shampoo again this morning. He smelled absolutely delicious.

"Nice…" Wolfram practically purred, his face buried softly into Yuuri's neck. But then he stopped and leaned back a little to look at him. "Yuuri?" he said with a slight yawn. "You hate public displays of affection, we'd better not…"

"Don't worry about it. I don't care."

_Not this again._ Blond hair shook "no." "You _do_ care. It's just the way you are." He ended it with a sleepy sigh. "You don't have to change for me."

"I know" was said back very gently. The double black's hand reappeared and Wolfram's head returned to the shoulder.

"Wolfram?"

"Hm?"

Another snuggle followed, initiated by the form in dark clothes. Yuuri's arms tightened around him again.

"Can we stay like this for awhile longer?" Yuuri felt a blush coming to him when he asked, but he was fine with it.

"I'm yours" was whispered in his ear.

"I-I know that…and I'm glad."

Within a few minutes, a tired Wolfram had pulled his feet up on the garden bench. His breath hitched a little—reminding Yuuri that Wolfram was still not back to his old self. Then, slowly, Wolfram's head ducked down and ended up resting in Yuuri's lap. A short, piggy snore followed. With an amused smile on his face, the double black remained seated, slowly running his fingers through blond hair. The mop of blond was soft and loose. It smelled of sunflowers and Yuuri was sure that he would never be able to see or smell another sunflower without thinking of his fiancé. The two images were locked together in his mind.

Blond ribbons ran through his fingers again.

_To sleep like this…with me…out in the open…_

He found a dark blond strand and ran his fingertip against it, tracing a path all the way down to a curved chin.

_This is trust._

Fingers delved into fine hair.

_Just what he sees in me, I'll never know. But I'll accept this gift, his heart._

Slowly, the stroking was taking its effect on Yuuri, too. He could feel his eyelids tug down for a bit of rest. He told himself that he'd shut his eyes for only a moment and then open them again. The eyes closed and onyx eyelashes rested on his cheeks.

Cecile, wearing her favorite black dress that was cut too low in all the wrong places for this occasion, walked along the garden path with Conrad. She was putting some effort into chattering aimlessly and contributing as much small talk to any conversation around her as possible so that things would seem normal around the castle. But, deep inside, she was worried—as all mothers would be—about the state that her poor Wolfie must be in before the trial was about to start. Conrad, as usual, accompanied her but had been trying to calm her fears and to give her his typical—and very real—reassuring smiles. So far, it had all worked. Now, they were both going to check in and see how Wolfram and Yuuri were doing.

Once through the shrubbery, the winding path took them to a quiet garden bench that looked over beds of white, fragrant roses still in bloom. Cecile almost squealed with joy, _again_, at the sight of her Wolfie and the maou alone together. Thanks to Conrad shushing her with a worried look on his face, no sound escaped to wake up the sleeping couple.

Yuuri was still sitting on the bench, but had his left arm running the length of it. His head was turned slightly to the side, using his arm as a pillow with his black hair blowing back slightly with the breeze. Wolfram's head was still in his lap with his body curled up. Yuuri's other hand was resting against a pale cheek, the thumb stroking it slowly.

* * *

Marelda's trial had been a headache from the start for Gwendal. He wished by all the spirits in the heavenly realm that Marelda had just disappeared, never to be heard from again. Why? Because this trial was more than just a local affair. It held all kinds of implications, both social and political, well beyond the borders of Shin Makoku.

By all rights and laws of the land, it was the noble and true Demon King who would decide matters that concerned the royal household, nobility, diplomats, and higher ranking military. Yuuri was to act as judge and jury according to the traditions of the country. But the fact that it was his fiancé that was kidnapped by one of his guards (even if the man was sent into the castle to act as a spy) along with a social climbing, ex-concubine sister bent on revenge—well, it didn't make the situation any easier to deal with. Understandably, even monarchs in the human lands were waiting with baited breath to learn the outcome. (Which, of course, made things politically quiet for the time being.)

The previous night, while Wolfram was tucking Greta into bed, it took Gwendal, Günter, Yozak, and Murata two solid hours to explain to Yuuri the implications of the trial. With previous rulers, the trial would be only a formality because just laying hands on a maou's fiancé with intent to do harm would bring on the penalty of death by hanging. But, Yuuri had insisted that they have a _real_ trial and give Jacob and Marelda a chance to defend themselves. And when Wolfram's uncle, Waltorana, sent a pigeon with a message in which he insisted that _he_ be given the honor of acting as the trial judge (with the not so subtle implications that it was because the wimpy king didn't want to do it), Yuuri politely refused. Instead, he gave the position to Anissina's cousin, Michelle von Karbelnikoff, a legal scholar and peer of Günter's.

Sitting at the long table next to Murata, Yozak chimed in, "But there are other things to consider. Word is that the money to pay for the Meigers' lawyers has come from Big Cimaron."

"Why would they do that?" Yuuri asked, scratching his head.

"Heika," Günter said, almost as though Yuuri hadn't been paying attention in his lessons—which was probably true--"the human kingdoms wish to see exactly where this situation will lead."

Yuuri blinked back with the same confused expression. "I still don't get it."

Murata smiled a little. It was that naïve quality that attracted people to him, making him seem more than a bit vulnerable and in need of protection. "Shibuya, you have a reputation for embracing peace…never executing anyone. In fact, you prefer to negotiate with people calmly instead of incarcerating them for every minor infraction of the laws. Right now, the only prisoners in the Blood Pledge Castle dungeons are Jacob and Marelda. And you've assigned one of the maids to keep an eye on Marelda just to make sure that she's not a woman alone in a prison with men guarding her."

"So?" He shrugged back.

"So, all of Shin Makoku and the other kingdoms are eager to see if you are willing to follow your own country's laws," Gwendal said with a hard tone and a steely stare. "Which will you do? Follow the laws that everyone here must abide by for the protection of the citizens? Including Wolfram? Or, will you despise the outcome and simply change the rules because you don't wish anyone to die?

Yuuri lowered his head and focused on the wood grain on the over sized table. Gwendal's words brought back to him the knowledge that Wolfram was Gwendal's cute baby brother, one that he had diapered and rocked to sleep at night. No matter what age he may be now, Wolfram was in many ways his child. And that life was precious—to them both.

The administrator fixed his eyes on Yuuri but spoke to the rest of the room. "I'd like to speak with Yuuri Heika alone."

The tone told everyone that he meant business. With that, the room cleared out pretty quickly. Yozak, being free for the evening, went off in search of Conrad looking as though a great weight had been lifted. Even Murata felt relief as he exited the doorway with a satisfied stretch and a brief "you're in for it now" glance backward.

"I know what you're going to say," Yuuri sighed. He rested his elbow on the table and put his cheek in his palm.

"I don't think you do," Gwendal said and leaned back in the chair a little.

The double black turned to him with wide, curious eyes. "Then…?"

"I was one of the people who encouraged Wolfram to break off his engagement with you. Did you know that?"

Yuuri's mind flashed back to the balcony scene where Gwendal and Wolfram discussed ending the engagement. It hurt badly because he'd just come to realize his growing affection for Wolfram. He also felt betrayed—that people who were to be his advisors, the very people who were supposed to support him and seek out his happiness, were telling Wolfram to end it. And the passionate blond had stubbornly held onto him as long as possible—until it seemed that letting go was for the best.

"Yeah," Yuuri said quietly, "I knew."

He got a surprised eyebrow that quirked up.

"Romantic entanglements only cause problems and disruptions. And with you, Wolfram had become so strongly bonded…" Gwendal shook his head grimly. "In the beginning, instead of ignoring the engagement, you should have called it off before he became attached. And, when you adopted Greta, as wonderful as she is, you _should not have allowed_ Wolfram to call himself a 'second father.' Once again, you ignored what Wolfram was doing…even though it was obvious to the rest of us." There was the sound of a chair scraping back against a wood floor. Gwendal stood up from his seat and went to the window. The evening scene glittered with stars. Even so, he frowned at it. "While you were busy playing 'father' to Greta, you were allowing Wolfram to form more bonds. You gave him the _hope_ of a marriage, the _hope_ of a child, the _hope_ of having his own family. You knew that he grew up without having a father of his own. Now, he could be a father to Greta—the kind of perfect father that he never had for himself."

Yuuri listened and what scared him the most was that, not too long ago, these arguments would have swayed him. He would have approached his favorite blond and ended their lives together right then and there because it was the easiest course of action and because he thought he wanted a different kind of life than the one Wolfram offered. The double black's heart began to beat hard—the feeling of having Wolfram's warmth and weight against him in bed suddenly being gone. Those passionate, green eyes that encouraged him—gone. That feeling gone. It was almost too hard to breathe now. Was he that easy to influence?

"I want Wolfram by my side," Yuuri said quietly.

Gwendal turned from the window and looked at him suspiciously. "For now, maybe… You're really too young to know what you want."

"No, I want him…always," Yuuri said, a little louder but with an even tone.

"Until your honeymoon and you realize that you're married to a _man_."

Yuuri shook his head at that. "It's the soul…I want. The temperament challenges me. He treats me like an equal and makes me face reality. He respects what I do… even if he doesn't necessarily agree with it." Feeling more confident, Yuuri said, "He's strong in ways even you can't understand." Yuuri tightened his fists as he spoke. "You didn't see him tied up and torn up the way I did." _There was blood. So much blood…_ Yuuri scrunched his eyes closed at the memory, but then forced himself to look over to Gwendal. "He never gave in to them. He never gave in to despair. And, no matter what happens to us in the future, I will always come for Wolfram."

"This sounds like pity to me." His face was stern and set. His brother deserved better.

"_Pity?" That seems like Wolfram's words. Maybe, this is where he gets it from…Gwendal._ The double black straightened his shoulders back. A determined look coming to him. "No, it isn't. And, like I said, I will always come for Wolfram when he needs me."

"You can't promise this. You have only an elementary understanding of the political and social stage. For example, hypothetically, if you were forced to make a choice between turning Wolfram over to the human kingdoms or keeping Wolfram here but having a war as a consequence, under your current administration's policies you'd have to hand Wolfram over. We both know that."

"I'd find a way to keep him."

Gwendal muttered, "This is stupid."

"No, this is…love."

* * *

Günter had arranged for Marelda and Jacob's trials to be held separately in the Shin Makoku Throne Room where a silk curtain barrier had been hung in front of Yuuri's throne to give a solid red backdrop. Other furniture had been moved in—an ornately carved chair and matching ebony table for the judge, a witness stand, as well as more scaled down versions of the judge's table, in keeping with the formal occasion, and seating for the lawyers, defendants, and those wishing to watch the trial unfold. Extra guards had been posted by the doors and windows long before even the furniture arrived. Günter also hand selected the guards outside. He chose a specific "mix" of castle guards—specifically, veterans who had never worked with Jacob, and those who were too young to have ever known that Marelda was once at Blood Pledge Castle with Wolfram's father.

The first trial would be Marelda's. This was not surprising for anyone once the rumor spread that Jacob intended to testify _against_ her. Apparently, he was going to give testimony that he only wanted _a little_ of Wolfram's blood for the potion he was making, even though they had evidence to the contrary and almost _all_ of his blood would be needed, and that it was Marelda who had deviated from the plan—wanting bizarre, random things like marrying the maou and chopping Wolfram's body into little pieces only to mail them off to his uncle, Waltorana.

Yuuri took an isle seat with Wolfram next to him. In fact, he had ushered the blond in with a kindly hand on his shoulder the way Gwendal always seemed to "steer" young Wolfram, and he pointed to where he wanted them to sit. Now that Wolfram was fully awake, he seemed out of it, staring vacantly at walls or the floor. His mind was somewhere else, and he didn't even notice that Günter was sitting next to him. The king's advisor looked to Wolfram, and seeing no response, leaned forward—turning his face to Yuuri only to get a vague, noncommittal shrug. Gwendal and Anissina, sitting side by side, glanced at each other with concern and then the back of Wolfram's head—almost wishing that they could see inside to learn what the blond was thinking of. It suddenly occurred to Yuuri that most of the people here were attending, not out of curiosity but as a sign of support for Wolfram. Yuuri decided that later, once they were tucked in bed, he would point that out while they cuddled. Since they got back to Blood Pledge Castle and the blond was well enough to share a bed with him, Wolfram would whisper his thoughts and dreams before drifting off, enjoying the safe feeling of being wrapped in Yuuri's arms. And Yuuri felt strong when he did it—protective. And it gave him a new sense of power that was far more satisfying than going into _maou mode._

Marelda entered the room with her grey eyed, grey haired aging Mazoku lawyer and Wolfram almost immediately stiffened. He sat up higher in his seat with his face a pale, blank sheet. The hands, so callused from sword fighting, had been resting on his knees up until this point. Now, the nails dug in while the emerald eyes tried to cut into her with the kind of look that soldiers had in combat.

"Wolfram? _Wolfram?_" Yuuri said quietly, shaking the blond out of his thoughts.

"Hn?" He blinked owlishly. Thankfully, the fierce scowl faded from his face, which made Yuuri glad.

An arm wrapped in black cloth went around Wolfram's shoulders. Yuuri leaned in and whispered in Wolfram's ear, "We can leave if you want."

A rasped "no" came back at him.

"Then, lean on me again…like you did this morning," Yuuri said and saw the hint of a smile coming to pink lips.

"Everyone's here…No, I'd better not." He fidgeted with his fingers a little. As much flack as he'd given Yuuri about the "bench incident," he was really no better about affection in public—or anything that could be interpreted as affection. _I'm such a hypocrite _he thought.

Onyx eyes looked at him sincerely. He whispered again, "They won't think you're weak."

"I'm not weak. I know that," Wolfram said harshly. But Yuuri had a much better understanding of Wolfram now, through all of his life lessons. What the blond was saying was to buck himself up, not tear his fiancé down.

"Then, we agree. So, lean on me."

Still sitting behind Yuuri and Wolfram, Gwendal got the shock of his life when he saw Wolfram lean to the left and rest the side of his head against Yuuri without complaint, protest, or tears. Black hair and blond mixed. There was that typical, boyish chuckle coming from Yuuri and a gentle pat to Wolfram's cheek.

"Next time, Yuuri, you can lean on me."

"Count on it."

* * *

Marelda paced in her jail cell back and forth. Her hair, which had all of the colors of an autumn leaf, was pulled back into a pony tail which swung with every step she took. Her clothes, which were long sleeved due to the dampness, were chocolate brown right down to the boots.

Marelda's trial had taken a full week of testimony and evidence to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt the things she had been accused of. Nonetheless, she felt angry and betrayed by her brother and those idiotic assassins that she had hired to work for her.

_They're just trying to save their skins, that's all…_

Instead of everyone taking a fair share of the blame for the plan's failure, she took the full bront of it and it pissed her off royally.

She stomped her foot, kicked the food tray that was on the floor, and continued to pace in the dimly lit cell like a brown shadow. The sconces flickered with the thin cool, draft that wandered in. Through the bars, Marelda shot a dangerous look to Sangria—who was sitting nervously on a chair perched by the exit to the dungeons. The short haired, aproned woman twisted her white lace handkerchief nervously as the guard next to her watched the pacing with little emotion.

Ignoring her lawyer's suggestion that she plead insanity and throw herself on the mercy of the king, court, and country, Marelda decided to go ahead and take credit for her part of the scheme but also decided to serve up a large portion of "blame" on the part of her smart ass brother. His trial would be coming up in two weeks. Giving testimony like that would get back at him for sure. At one point, it had become a lot of name calling—especially the part when Jacob said that her oracle wielding had led her into "dark arts" and that she wasn't responsible for her actions. "Dark arts" wielding was a load of crap in her opinion. It made her sound like a total loon. Then, he said that she went so far as to try to molest Wolfram when he was tied up. Jacob testified that he'd seen her mouth smeared with blood, and then she tried to cover it up by saying _Wolfram had attacked her_ as a slash-mouthed ghoul_. _

_Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!_

Since oracle wielding, which fell under "fortune telling," was not a crime or even discouraged in demon realms, nothing that she did there was considered illegal. Even the judge herself admitted that she didn't believe it was possible for an oracle wielder to have the power to alter the outcome of present or future events. So, the wielding was ignored. But everything else that Marelda was charged with did matter: laying hands on a member of the royal family with intent to cause harm (and as a fiancé to The Demon King, Wolfram fell into the "royal" category), conspiring against the kingdom (Yes, they found her letters to Jacob regarding Wolfram's schedule and training practices.), kidnapping of a royal personage, assault (Gisela was forced to show drawings of Wolfram's injuries and scars that remained despite her best efforts.), attempted sexual assault due to the bloody kiss, and two counts of attempted murder.

_I'll make them pay. They'll all pay for this! I'll push events to the worst outcome ever…even if I get lost in the penumbra and never find my way back. They will suffer! War… A war with the humans. That would be easy enough to do if I find the right people. Shin Makoku will have no chance with this feeble king._

Marelda walked back and forth. She chanted under her breath and tried to cast her mind forward—to push herself into the penumbra. Oddly, she couldn't do it. This part was the most infuriating. She had never lost her gift before. It just wasn't possible. Now that she thought about it, since the ride back to Blood Pledge Castle, she hadn't been able to oracle wield at all. At first, Marelda thought it was stress brought on by being captured, bound and gagged. That horse ride was hard on her butt, too. But, she didn't need to speak in order to use her gift unless she wanted to enter the penumbra in an awakened state. Usually, she slipped into it when she dreamed.

Marelda swished her pony tail and turned hard on her heel just as the footsteps of Murata and four burly guards reached her ears.

They entered the dungeon.

"Marelda Meiger," the sage said smoothly. He had his hands behind his back, taking steps toward the bars. He smiled blandly.

One of the guards had the oversized key and was unlocking the door. There was the sound of metal grinding against metal.

Marelda stopped, giving the slightly shorter young man her full attention. Just for a second, she felt the spark and stared with eyes widening in curiosity. He was like her—an oracle wielder. She could recognize her own kind. No, he wasn't as powerful as she was. But he was good and strong.

_If I had known about this one earlier on, I would have eliminated him._

Marelda stood her ground, standing on the uneven stone floor with arms folded against her chest.

Murata took off his glasses, polished them against his shirt for a second, and then put them back on. "You're right," he murmured, "I am that and much more."

She stared at him suspiciously. "More?"

"I'm the reason why you can't oracle wield. I know you've been trying, so I wouldn't bother denying it." He came closer to the bars. "In fact, I've been blocking you for awhile now." He opened his palm showing a highly polished piece of rainbow obsidian lying in the center. "I picked this little rock up when I helped search your home for Wolfram. I guess, it was a leftover from the arrows that you made, and I picked up your aura and energy right away." He tossed the rock up in the air and caught it with his right hand. "I'm sure you know why no one uses this kind of rock for arrows anymore. Rainbow obsidian is far more valuable as a power booster for those who wield magic. Of course, alchemists prize it, too—for other reasons."

Murata smirked. This was fun. "And you almost got away with it, too. You're pretty good at changing the course of events. Oh, it's not easy, granted… It's like blowing on soap bubble. You can push events in a certain direction, but there's no real accuracy to it. And, just when you feel that it's going your way, a breeze hits and things turn out differently…and, sometimes, far more so than what you originally planned." He rested a hand on his hip. It was haughty of him, the speech that he was giving, and he knew it. "Of course, the future is not a set thing. It is something yet to be. It floats on the wind. But, you know that, too."

"Tsk." She rolled her eyes.

"Oh, yes… The reason why I'm here…which is something you don't know," Murata said with a jolly curve coming to his face. "Well, understandably, you decided to skip your sentencing. But you really shouldn't have. A lot was said about you and there was some debate."

Marelda sighed openly and impatiently. He needed to get this over with.

Murata tugged at his sleeves and pretended to smooth the creases out distractedly. "Death is the standard punishment for all of this."

"And the maou is a total pacifist," Marelda spat back. "He's afraid of his own shadow. And this will show everyone that it's true."

Onyx eyes began to harden, an impish curve came to his face. "There are parts that are kind. But there are parts that would frighten even you… if you knew."

"Then, you're dumber than you look. He's not a king, he's a man-child."

Murata looked to the guard and gave a nod. The door swung open with a rusted groan of metal on metal, but proud Marelda didn't move.

"You put Shibuya—our maou—in an impossible position. On the one hand, he had to follow the laws of the land and approve of your execution…which, by the way, was what the judge issued."

Marelda knew that was coming and had prepared herself for it. She didn't even flinch.

"On the other hand, the maou is a peace loving person. He hates to give up and he hates to see anybody die." Murata adjusted his glasses. "You see, he holds the opinion that life is an education, and it's really hard for dead people to learn anything or repent their former ways."

"A fool," Marelda said, "just like I said. He's too weak, too feeble to rule. The human kingdoms will see this for what it is and force your _maou_ to be a man. To fight…" She took a step forward to face Murata with her arms still folded against her chest. "So, my death won't be pointless after all." She grinned at him.

Murata laughed at her. "You know, those things occurred to me, too. However, even I was surprised by the final words given to the court." He chuckled again at what had happened only an hour ago and the fact that Marelda knew none of it. "You see, after all was said and done, it is tradition to allow interested parties to have a say to the judge about the crimes committed and how they caused an impact. With the sentencing of death, and your own brother testifying against you, no one bothered to speak up…no one…except…_Wolfram_."

Marelda gave a kind of "blah, blah, like I really care" look to the sage.

"No, really. And can you guess what he said?"

Her brown eyes held a bored look to them, but Murata shrugged and continued anyway, "Wolfram stood up, took the stand, and told everyone that you shouldn't die. He said that you should be imprisoned, not hanged."

Marelda's face told him that she didn't care about the turn of events. Her fate was out of her hands. So, the sage was just wasting his breath. But Murata went on with, "Can you comprehend the amount of anguish he went through in order to do that? To spare Yuuri from making a decision that would have haunted him forever? And possibly bring on the wrath of the nobles as well as the human kingdoms what would have seen him as weak when he spared you?"

Marelda's brown eyes widened, the realization slowly sinking in. _No! This can't be!_

"It was more mercy than you deserved." Murata's happy-go-lucky tone dropped, revealing his true feelings. Then, he shook his head and straightened his shoulders. He forced his voice back into the placid sage's tones. "So, Lord Wincott, one of our kindest nobles, has graciously offered to have you as a permanent guest in a dungeon cell in his castle. He's even trained a few female guards…approved by our own expert, Lady Anissina von Karbelnikoff… and fully armed with some of her inventions…" Murata smirked at that and hoped that the inventions didn't explode—or, if they did, they'd send the blast in Marelda's direction. "Oh, yes… and one other little detail."

From behind his back, Murata pulled out a silver collar embedded with a row of pebble sized Houseki stones. The collar was shaped like a dog collar with a lock in the back, designed by Anissina of course, so that it would be impossible to take off once the lock was in place. "You've lost your power to oracle wield permanently. After all, I can't keep an eye on you forever. It's quite draining after a few days."

The sage gave one of the guards a nod. "Don't get too close to the collar," he said quietly to the man, "you'll start feeling weak right away."

The uniformed guard took Marelda by the shoulder with the intention of turning her around and forcing her to her knees so that the sage would have an easier time getting the collar on.

A silver blur came from her long sleeve. Marelda took the spork she'd hidden from her breakfast tray, with the end sharpened against the stone floor to a point, and grabbed Murata—forcing the object to his throat and making drops of blood spill down. The sage held back a groan as the warm blood ran down and her grip around his shoulders tightened with fingernails digging in painfully.

"You touch me and I'll kill him." Her eyes were on the guard. She meant business.

Murata, startled and frightened, found himself unable to move. His heart was beating hard in chest, almost rattling him. But, in front of Marelda, he wouldn't show fear and he was grateful that she could only see the back of his head and, at best, a slight angle of his profile. Murata wouldn't give her the satisfaction of seeing him afraid. No, that wouldn't happen. The sage's face paled a bit before he said, "I-I'd prefer you not. I'll just get reincarnated again and come back." He gave a nervous, boyish laugh that would not be unreasonable for any teenager. Then, Murata held perfectly still and tried to take in the situation. Much to his displeasure, he noticed that there were many sharp things besides Marelda's homemade knife. In fact, all of the guards in the dungeons had their swords drawn and aimed at them.

_Not good. Definitely not good… _

The grip around him tightened as Marelda shifted her weight. He suddenly realized that his arms were wrapped around his chest and the woman behind him was using him as a human shield.

"Are we going somewhere?" Murata asked.

There was an uncomfortable pause. He could feel Marelda breathing against him—breathing hard.

"In a way… I think… The plan has changed. We'll die together," Marelda said defiantly. "It's impossible for you to escape…and the same goes for me, too."

Murata forced himself to take an even breath. _She's getting desperate pretty quickly. But then, she prepared herself to die here anyway._

"Better yet, just give up," Murata said evenly, "and accept this fate peacefully."

"No," she said with gritted teeth. She had the sage in her arms. She wasn't going to lose. Even if she died here in this stinking dungeon, she'd take the sage with her. He deserved it. And there was no way the guards would be quick enough to stop the inevitable.

Marelda growled in Murata's ear, "Tell them goodbye. You're about to die."

Sangria gave a little cry and covered her mouth with the handkerchief. They were both as good as dead and the looks on the guards' faces proved it.

Murata's right arm slid across his chest and under his left arm, now hanging at his side.

"Well, I tried," the sage said and thanked the heavens above for Shinou making him a total and complete perv as he reached around and pinched Marelda's nipple through her blouse.

Marelda shrieked, dropped her weapon, and, upon realizing what he'd done and why, kicked at him with a rather large brown boot—sending the sage flying against the nearest stone wall. Within seconds, the guard closest to her forced her down on her knees, skinning them on the floor in spite of the thick skirt, and Murata, still slightly dazed, slapped the collar on with a look of satisfaction.

* * *

Wolfram sighed to himself and rolled over. A clumsy hand grabbed the sheets and pulled them up over his shoulder. The blond snuggled in and sighed again. His body felt heavy now, sleep finally taking him after all of the turmoil that had happened.

Wolfram knew that he would never forget the look on Yuuri's face when he raised his hand and insisted that the court recognize him. He had something to say and he'd say it in front of the whole kingdom. News would spread that far in only a day. That was for sure.

At first, Yuuri just looked shocked, his eyes wide and his mouth open slightly. Then, pain and sadness edged in—understanding that Wolfram was reliving his experiences with Marelda. Thus, his need for justice. But Yuuri wasn't sure what to do to create that justice—to make things better for his fiancé—and that feeling was painted all over him. He was dripping wet with it.

From where he sat, Wolfram saw it. Understood it. And he knew what he had to do.

The blond looked at the judge, the lawyers, and then the rest of the courtroom. Wolfram knew his reputation. How they saw him and, oddly, how they would continue to see him without noticing the change—that Yuuri was now just as much a part of him as his very own soul was.

Wolfram took a long, slow breath to calm his nerves and began. "What Marelda did to me was vile. I was on my knees for hours…tied up… and then she beat me with the same whip that she used for her cattle."

There was grumbling in the far back corners of the room. The judge flashed a glare in that direction, but tried to keep her focus on the maou's fiancé.

"You have no idea what it's like to watch your own blood pour out of you…matting up your hair…making puddles on the floor. She thrashed me within an inch of my life, and then intended to bleed the rest until I was a husk. And, even now, I'm still not fit enough to resume my duties with my men. Not that I can't handle it. I can. All of my training as a soldier helped me through it. And a soldier from Shin Makoku can deal with anything that comes. And I'm an example of that."

There was a series of "whoops" and cheers coming from the back of the courtroom again where Wolfram's personal guard sat together as a block wearing their formal blue dress uniforms to show support. The judge cast them a stern glance this time and they all settled down.

"My last memory was bleeding in…Yuuri Heika's arms. And, if it weren't for him, using his healing magic, I would now be buried along side my forefathers in the von Bielefeld cemetery." Wolfram raised his voice so that everyone could hear. "Our maou is strong and powerful, but also kind and merciful." This time, Wolfram's eyes drifted to Gwendal. Referring to Yuuri as "heika" satisfied the formalities required in legal proceedings but the determined gaze told his older brother that Yuuri was important to him, and they both needed to recognize that openly.

"So, I ask the court, concerning Marelda Meiger…to spare her life."

There was a general gasp in the room and Yuuri's head shot up with an incredulous look on his face.

"I'm the one who is at the center of this. And I could call for her death, as our laws would clearly dictate as penalty for these crimes. But what kind of fiancé would I be if I asked for a punishment that went against what my soon-to-be husband's policies so clearly dictate? He is right. And we are of one heart and mind…in this matter."

Yuuri melted at that. Wolfram had, indeed, changed. He had matured far beyond the selfish, pretty boy that he was when they first met. And he was no longer the young man who was on the floor, bleeding with an arrow embedded in his side, uttering bitter words. Now that he was looking, really looking, Wolfram seemed slightly older, and much wiser… merciful…unbelievably merciful.

Faking confidence that he truly didn't have, Wolfram turned his head to Yuuri to get his reaction. He would be happy, of course. But what else? To be honest with himself, he didn't really know. Wolfram cocked his blond head to one side and watched closely. Then, he saw it. He could recognize it. For the first time, he could see the glow of love in onyx eyes.

_He…loves me? I never thought I'd live long enough to see that in him. _

Green eyes grew misty. It was worth it. It was worth everything he'd gone through: the loneliness, the despair, the terror, and the pain. Even thoughts that he would die in Yuuri's arms—the only place he would want to be when that time came. "Yuuri…" They were connected. He finally felt it—that link between them. The red thread wasn't a lie after all.

"I do not seek her execution. I ask the court to imprison her for life."

Wolfram rolled in his sleep, slowly reviewing the day's events in slow motion. They were beginning to lose color now, becoming little more than rough sketches in his mind. Though the look on Gwendal's face was priceless. He had to admit that. And Wolfram replayed that image in his head more than once.

Darkness and the feeling of falling.

_Screams?_

_Smoke?_

Fire was coming from somewhere. No, there were _fires_. And not magical ones, either.

Horse hooves pounded into dirt and grass.

Darkness. It was dark outside. No moon. Only clouds.

More screams filled the night. Women. Some of them were women.

Doors and windows slammed shut.

Weapons clashed, metal against metal.

"They're burning the village! Run!"

A backdrop of fiery rain and black smoke billowing up appeared from somewhere. A blond figure, dressed in finery with a cape carelessly flung over one shoulder stared without smiling. "In spite of your best efforts, this could not be avoided. You tried, Wolfram. Accept it."

_No!_

"There are some events that are simply meant to be. It's called 'Free Will'."

_No!_

"When you go to this place, remember…your heart's desire will be covered in soil."

"_Please, no! I'll do whatever you say. Just don't let it happen!_"

Wolfram was sitting up in bed. His right arm was stretched out, hand reaching for Shinou—to grab hold of him. To force him to change everything. To see reason. Wolfram was breathing hard, sobbing before he even realized it.

"Wolf…ram?" Yuuri said cautiously, his tone concerned. "Are you awake?" He was shocked to see emerald eyes swimming in tears.

Wolfram put a hand to his head, raking back blond hair. He nodded an answer with fingers still fisted in silky strands, his voice gone. He nodded a "yes" again but didn't feel it. He squeezed his eyes shut and more tears fell down his cheeks.

"Wolf- ?"

"I'm fine," he rasped with a wet voice.

Yuuri reached out a hand, hesitantly, and touched Wolfram's face. He expected his fiancé to have more nightmares. So, he wasn't surprised at all—especially with the trial going on.

"It's okay," he soothed in the same tone he used for Greta's bad dreams. He leaned in to get closer and realized that their daughter had, indeed, snuck into their bed in the middle of the night. She was between them, now, with her head softly buried into a yellow bunny-shaped pillow that Gwendal made for her.

Yuuri caressed Wolfram's face with the palm of his hand. It was warm and wet. "Better now?" He got another nod. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

Wolfram put a hand against the one stroking his face. He pressed Yuuri's palm a little harder against his cheek.

"The village that I told you about? The one in Shinou's false vision…where I died?"

"Yes…" Yuuri said quietly.

"I saw it again. In my dream. It was like…I was there."

Yuuri leaned across Greta to near Wolfram's face. "A dream…that's all…"

"No, it's burning to the ground right now. All of it. A group of thugs…mindless but strong." Wolfram looked into Yuuri's face, searching for some sort of comfort but, deep down, he was afraid there would be none. "I think they're all dead."

"Wolfram…" Yuuri said the name softly and placed his arms around Wolfram's shoulders. "I think it was a dream. I really do."

"No, I saw Shinou in it. And he gave me a message." Wolfram began to sob. He buried his face against Yuuri—more warm tears trickled down, soaking into a blue pajama top.

"We'll talk about it tomorrow. Okay?" Yuuri forced his tone to be even. He didn't want worry to creep into it. But it was hard. Wolfram was never like this—ever. It had to be the trial causing this dream and these fears. He also worried that they'd wake Greta.

"What if something bad is going to happen now that I'm…with you…and happy?" He cringed at that. "I've always known that, as a soldier, my life is too dangerous to share with anyone else. Maybe, this life is too much to hope for. I'm being selfish again."

Now, Yuuri gave Wolfram a stern look. "You promised to be by my side forever, remember?"

"Always," the blond answered. "But, Yuuri…I want you to be safe."

"I am."

"I want you to be happy."

"I am."

"I want you…"

Yuuri cut him off with a kiss. It was soft and comforting, sweet in simplicity. He could feel Wolfram sobbing a little through it, but no more tears came. Slowly, they relaxed into each other. The double black toyed with a ringlet of blond hair.

Greta opened her eyes. Looking up to what she expected to see would be the canopy, she saw, instead, the towering figures of her fathers—arms around each other, sharing a gentle kiss.

She smiled and rolled onto her side. _Tomorrow night, I'm sleeping in my own bed._

* * *

Marelda stretched out on the cot and tugged furiously at her collar over and over until the skin around her neck turned cherry red and chaffed. There was no getting the damn thing off. If she dared to let her fingers linger on the Houseki stones imbedded in it, she would feel a sharp, cold pain where the stones sapped her strength. Add to the fact that it was shaped like a dog collar…

"I'd rather die than wear this thing!" she yelled and jerked at her neck again.

_There's got to be a way out of it. I'm not spending the rest of my life wearing a collar and being trapped in a cage. I've tasted freedom in the penumbra. I'm not letting go of that._

Marelda gritted her teeth and pounded the thin mattress beneath her with a fist.

"This sucks!" she hissed under her breath, not wanting the other to hear anything besides words of provocation or contempt.

Marelda flopped her body back down, trying to stare a hole right through the stone ceiling.

A bump.

Something bumped under the cot and seemed to shift with a kind of swishing sound against the floor.

"Eh?" She half sat up, pushing herself on her elbows, only to see a grey mouse scurrying against one wall, leaving the cell. It charged straight for Sangria, who had been watching Marelda resting.

"Whoa! Whoa! EEEEKKK!" Sangria screeched, pulling up her skirts and scrambling up the stairs with a happy little mouse following her—jumping gleefully from step to step. It sprung again at her heels and the maid "eeked" again in an even higher pitch. Her skirts were up way past her thighs by the time she got to the top of the flight of steps and two guards, rushing to help, got nosebleeds.

Marelda laughed at that. "Stupid bitch…afraid of a little dungeon rat." She leaned back on the cot and smiled for the first time in days. Maybe, this wouldn't be so bad after all.

A bump.

Scrambling.

Two thick arms shot out of the mattress and grabbed Marelda around the waist—capturing her and pulling down with darkened hands and split nails.

She inhaled sharply, eyes impossibly wide.

"Marelda, my dear," the voice growled softly. It seemed to be coming from everywhere. "You're alone now, aren't you?"

_The one from the penumbra. The one I met. It's him. He's the thing under the bed!_

"You tried… to kill my sage tonight…DIDN'T YOU?" It bit out the words—both angry and vicious. Almost right in her ear.

She turned to look.

Nothing.

"Unlike Yuuri Heika, forgiveness is not in my nature when it comes to protecting the people that I love. And do not mistake me, I love my sage…love him with a passion…and will do so until the end of time."

The hands tore at her clothes—ripping them and digging in filthy nails.

Her eyes widened and she struggled, tilting her head towards the ceiling as she screamed "Guards?! Guards!"

"They can't hear you, my lady." The laugh that followed was cruel, sadistic.

Marelda struggled anyway, clawing at the hands pulling her down.

"Dungeon rat," Shinou growled at her. The arms forced Marelda's body into the mattress. "Laughing at a stupid bitch…"

With a defiant howl, she felt her soul being torn out of her body and into the penumbra where it wandered aimlessly and alone—slowly going mad.

* * *

The next morning, Yuuri was at his usual table, signing a stack of papers that Gwendal had already pre-approved. Not surprisingly, Wolfram was his shadow, having pulled up a plush chair and sitting to his left. He was reading a book called _The History of Political Philosophy and Its Correlation to Battlefield Stratagems in Shin Makoku_.

Yuuri smiled at the angelic face with a button nose stuck in a book. He always knew Wolfram was smart.

"That's one of the books I'm supposed to read for my lessons today."

The blond turned the page with great interest. He ran his finger across a few paragraphs. "It's a good one. You'll start out with Shinou's Directives, move on to Social Contract Theory, and then…"

"Die of boredom…?" Yuuri chuckled a bit at his joke.

"No," Wolfram grumbled under his breath.

He got a coy glance from a double black hiding behind a stack of papers.

The blond saw it and lowered his head with a slight peachy tinge to his cheeks. Trying not to appear flustered, he went on. "I'd study anything in bold or italics. The maps are good, too. And, if you get stuck for an answer, just tell Günter that the political ideas of the day influenced the way we went to war."

That earned him a smile.

"Maybe, I should have you study with me from now on."

Wolfram shrugged at that with a thin smile. "Maybe you should. I can teach you a few things."

Yuuri leaned forward and whispered seductively, "I'll look forward to it."

He gave a typical "humph" and turned his head away. "You're all talk and no action."

Yuuri's eyes widened. "Talk about _bold_." He had to hold his breath to stop himself from laughing when a very embarrassed Wolfram lowered his head again and pretended to read the book's fine print.

"Wolfram?"

"Y-Yes…?"

"You forgot to add 'wimp' to that last sentence."

Yuuri reached around the stack of papers and took his hand. They both smiled.

There was hard banging on the door. The knocking was long, loud, and persistent.

The magic of the moment broken, Wolfram hung his head in frustration. Yuuri saw and chuckled inwardly at that. _Being with me means that much to you. I'm glad._

"Come!" Wolfram ordered with a very cross tone before Yuuri could say anything.

"And just who is 'maou' around here anyway?" he grumbled but in a good natured way, hoping to cheer his fiancé up.

Wolfram shrugged and wanted to release Yuuri's hand, but the double black held on. "You'll just have to learn to be a little more affectionate in public."

The blond leaned forward and whispered "Exhibitionist."

Yuuri raised a black eyebrow with mock surprise. His "wolf" gave him a challenging, sadistic smirk and then turned to where a soldier was standing at attention in the doorway.

"Yes?"

The man gave a swift bow and said, "We have received word about the village that you had under observation, Lord von Bielefeld."

"Juergen?"

"The same," he gave a nod. "We have word that early this morning, it was attacked and burned to the ground. The villagers fought bravely, but…"

Wolfram dropped the book he was holding. It tumbled off the edge of the desk and clattered to the floor, spine up and pages bent. A shaking hand went for it, making two swipes before finally clutching the tome and pulling it into his lap.

"I see…" he said dryly. "Then, call forth my personal guard and order them to wait for me at the stables. We'll go and investigate."

"Hold that order," Yuuri barked with a tone that was harsh, even for him. _The dream was real! No! I can't believe it._ He turned to the blond, slamming his fists on the desk and making the papers jump. Anger written on his face. "I'll agree to an investigation, but…_You're not going!_" He pointed a finger at his fiancé.

"I have to…but I want YOU to stay here." Wolfram's mind flashed back to Shinou's message. He suppressed a shiver.

"W-o-l-f-r-a-m!" Yuri growled out.

"I'm going!" the blond bellowed, storming off on the direction of the door with the soldier standing in it. As he approached, Wolfram glared a warning at the man who had a very perplexed expression on his face—not knowing what to do. On the one hand, the soldier was very well aware that Yuuri could turn into the maou and then he'd die from being crushed by water dragons. On the other hand, Wolfram could conjure a fire lion and have it chase him around the courtyard, giving his butt third degree burn-bites.

"I'm going and that's the end of it. I'll meet them at the stables," Wolfram ordered while running past the guard in the direction of the bedroom to fetch his sword. The blond was bent on facing this nightmare, not fleeing from it. It was something that he simply had to do, or the dream would haunt him forever.

Only a few steps behind, Yuuri, just as determined, jogged after his fiancé with fury burning in his heart. "I'm not letting you do this!" he shouted, soon passing Yozak and Conrad without so much as a glance or even a "good morning."

The pair froze in the hall, curious eyes tracking the retreating royal couple.

"You're being…DIFFICULT!"

"No, I'M NOT!" The voice boomed.

"See reason, or…or…" Yuuri stammered.

"What?"

"I'll order you to stay!"

"You and what army?!"

"Gee, I don't know, Wolfram. I suppose I'll use the one MARCHING OUTSIDE!"

The door to their bedroom opened with such force that it swung all the way and the handle smacked into the wall with a deafening BANG.

"You can't tell me what to do! I'm not a twenty year old or something!" Wolfram shouted with a bloody edge to it, planting his feet solidly. His fists were balled up at his sides, emitting red sparks, and steam began to rise from his body.

"You behaved better as a twenty year old! So, stop being stupid!"

"Stupid?! You're the one being stupid!"

Yuuri looked around them and saw the gathering, vastly amused, crowd. "Don't you dare burn me," he growled as he grabbed his fiancé by the hand—leading the blond into the bedroom.

"I'd never burn you," Wolfram returned with a tearful anger as he disappeared through the doorway.

An irate, "You forgot to add '_wimp'_ to that, _Wolf-chan_!" came back at him.

"Oi! Don't call me 'chan'—whatever that means! So, do not PISS ME OFF!"

A fireball was volleyed out the doorway and into the wall opposite.

The door slammed shut.

Yozak turned to Conrad. Blue eyes danced into soft brown ones. "Should we break up the fight?" the spy asked with a quirky grin.

"Hmmm…good question." Conrad thought about it and stroked his chin a little as he kept his gaze on the bedroom door in the distance. A secretive smile coming to him.

Then, there was the sound of sliding metal followed by a "thunk"—the _very audible_ sound of a heavy deadbolt being thrown. The locked door was tested. It rattled twice.

"On the other hand, they may not be fighting at all by now," Yozak said with a wink. Then, he thought about it a little more. He chuckled and placed one hand behind his head boyishly.

With the show over, groups of maids chattered idly as they passed by. Greta skipped down the hallway after her red ball—which was rolling away at top speed. Anissina, with her newest invention in her hands, was making a beeline for Gwendal's office. The murmuring of voices grew to a pitch and, just as quickly, tapered off.

Conrad was still watching the door and gave no reply. Yozak narrowed his eyes at that a bit and continued with a hint of mischief, "Well, if they're anything like us…" He neared his captain and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Those kiddos will make up soon…Ahh…but that's the best part."

"Is there an 'us'?" Conrad asked playfully.

"Do you want to see that leather cat suit with the lace-up back again?" he threatened.

Conrad began to sweat nervously, eyes darting around the emptying hallway. "There's an 'us'."

* * *

One hour later, Wolfram and Yuuri emerged with a better attitude, a change of clothes and smelling strongly of honey nectar lotion.

Yuuri had grumbled, insisted, and, finally, roped in Yozak and Conrad into the very one-sided conversation before Wolfram relented and agreed to let them all come along. Morgif moaned pathetically, just awakened from his mid-morning nap in the Treasure Room, while being unceremoniously strapped onto Yuuri.

It was annoying. No, _they_ were all annoying! Wolfram cast the trio a sharp look and then headed for the stables where he knew his men were waiting for them. At least, _they_ could act maturely…sometimes.

"I suppose you've all heard where we're going and why," Wolfram said in a raised voice to his men, feeling slightly guilty for making his own guard wait for so long. Then again, considering what he was doing all that time with Yuuri, it was worth it. He smirked to himself.

"Yes, and we are with you," Gerard said dramatically, tucking a strand of his beautiful, soft hair behind his ear. The man walked the last few steps with Wolfram, stopped, and offered him his hand to steady his superior officer as he tried to get on his horse. Gerard was handsome, well connected socially, and a peacock, but he was also keenly observant. Wolfram's gait was not that of a man who had made it back to the peak of performance. Clearly, he was hurting. Everything in his stride spoke of that.

Gerard's eyes flashed in Yuuri's direction as he offered Wolfram a hand in getting on.

"I can do this," Wolfram said quietly, ignoring the hand held out to him. Instead, he gripped his ribs tightly as he swung a leg over the side of his horse. Wolfram held back a groan and forced his face to be slack. It didn't work, though. No one was fooled. There were glances among the guard. The men worried about Wolfram, but didn't say anything to dishonor him or to make him feel uneasy. The situation was uncomfortable enough as it was. Nonetheless, it tore at them to see Wolfram in such a state and pushing himself to face an unknown enemy.

Yuuri frowned at the scene a little. He knew that Wolfram loved him. There was no doubt about that. But he would have to get used to Wolfram's guard being like this, both fretting over him and adoring him. It was just the way things were.

The light bulb turned on._ Wait a minute… Maybe there __is__ something _he thought impishly and turned to the soldier closest to Wolfram with a knowing smile.

The group rode down the lane with a sandy haired soldier in front who knew the way to Juergen Village intimately because he had an ex-girlfriend who lived in the neighboring town. The rest of the soldiers shot teasing remarks at him for that, which made the man annoyed. He didn't like being teased in front of Wolfram. It felt bad. It made him look like a tart.

Yuuri and Wolfram rode in the middle with Yozak and Conrad behind them and more of Wolfram's private guard following up the rear.

"But I don't get it, Yuuri," Wolfram said with a confused look and an arm bracing his ribs tightly. They had to travel slower because of the ache from being jostled on the horse. And the blond soldier hated that. "Why did you send Gerard back to the castle to tell Gwendal where we were going? That's the kind of thing I'd assign a rookie to do…or maybe a stable hand or maid…or something. You've just insulted him, and he's an elite veteran soldier among this guard, mind you." Wolfram's voice wasn't loud. It was almost conversational. But, Yuuri got the distinct feeling from the men riding near him that he had committed a faux pas.

The double black thought quickly and said, "Remember that 'vision' you got from Shinou?"

Wolfram nodded. He also noticed that the other men were listening but pretending not to. The blond smirked to himself. He was no fool as to what was happening, but he decided to let it continue if that was what Yuuri wanted to do.

"Well, you mentioned Gerard covered in blood."

All of the men in the guard paled at that. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the exchange of looks when he turned to watch Wolfram's stern profile.

"Yes, I saw that in the vision," the blond admitted reluctantly. He gripped his ribs tighter and tried not to wince.

"Thus, we've already changed things. If Gerard is nowhere to be seen, then there's no way he can be covered in blood." He forced Ao into a bit of a "victory" trot. He was proud of himself for the excuse—even if it had been partially true. "No Gerard" meant "No Gerard around Wolfram today." It felt good.

"Covered in blood? Ummm…Wolfram?" Conrad called from behind. The blond tried to turn in the saddle to glare at him only to grab his ribs and double over with a gasp.

Immediately, Yuuri reached a hand out and touched Wolfram. The fun was over. "Take it easy," he said seriously. "I want to keep you in one piece."

The blond nodded back to him, forcing air into his lungs. "What do you want, Conrad?" Wolfram said huffing, without turning this time.

"I think Gwendal will be wanting a full debriefing on this little incident. So, you'd better be prepared for that."

"Of course," Wolfram said in his typical, bratty tone that he reserved for his older brother. "He'll learn what he needs to."

"I see…" Conrad said, "So, I suppose, our reports will be the same."

"Same?" Wolfram said in a hollow voice.

"Yes, I intend to give Gwendal one as well."

Wolfram rolled his eyes at that. _This sucks_.

* * *

They turned a u-shaped bend and took a left through the wooden gates that were swinging off their hinges.

"We're here," Yuuri said quietly as they entered the village.

"Welcome to Hell," Wolfram added darkly.

It was still smoldering. The village square's modest little fountain that had goldfish in it was the only thing standing tall enough to greet them. But the stone was chipped in several places and the top of the fountain, which had a carved statue of a white tailed deer, was broken off—the pieces carelessly thrown into the water. The fish nibbled at the rubble, wondering if anything was edible.

The smell of burnt wood and death grew stronger. Fighting nausea, Wolfram urged his horse to go farther in at a trot. He was seeing everything and nothing. The scenes before him matched up perfectly with the vision that Shinou had shown him in the water mirror of his own death. Had Yuuri seen it, the way he did, there would be no way that the double black would even allow him to be here. It was only through sheer will, stubbornness, and the companionship of Conrad and Yozak that he was able to come at all. Wolfram knew this only too well. He was not so naïve as to believe differently.

The white steed passed houses that had been burned down to the foundations. Used matchstick remains of barns teetered, threatening to fall on the charred earth below. Hay for the livestock had been burned, too. What seemed to be animal carcasses littered the dirt roads and pastures. They had been butchered and roasted on crude, makeshift fires. So, the attackers did more than just ransack the homes, burn the village, and murder the citizens. They ate hunks of the livestock, too, and killed the rest of the animals—leaving the bodies to swell and rot among the flies.

"Status report," Wolfram said with a hard edge to the nearest soldier. The man had a small cart and was transporting barrels of water.

"My superior officer," he pointed to the left. He hoped that answer would be satisfactory. He was wrong.

"I'm asking _you_, not _him_," Wolfram barked with green eyes that sparkled malevolently.

"Yes sir!" he gave a respectful bow. "We're recovering the dead and placing them in a makeshift morgue by the old blacksmith's shop. Others on the scene here have been assigned to search the area for survivors. My commanding officer has just finished questioning the man you assigned to watch the village."

"And the water?" Wolfram tilted his head in the direction.

"The bandits poisoned the well before running away. I got this from one of the villages north of here so that we have something to drink."

"Fine," Wolfram said. And, with a kick, he urged his horse forward. With one arm, he braced his ribs again, but what he was really doing was hugging himself.

_These people were terrified. I saw it…their last moments_.

Yuuri pulled up along side him. He was still worried. Wolfram was acting strangely, almost in his own world and cut off from the rest of them. He was afraid that if he didn't do something, Wolfram's soul would be out of reach. "Can I talk to you?" he asked.

"Of course, I'm your fiancé," the blond said quietly, but his voice had trailed off.

Yuuri jumped down from Ao and waited patiently for Wolfram to do the same. The second the blond's feet hit the ground, he made another grab for his ribs and rasped, "That one hurt." Yuuri, grabbing his forearm, murmured a quiet, "Are you okay?" He got a sharp nod and even sharper eyes. The second Wolfram straightened up, Yuuri took his fiancé by the shoulder and steered him in the direction of a place away from everyone, but still within full sight of Conrad and Yozak. From the size of the smoldering foundation, it was a place where a large house once stood. Only the root cellar with wooden doors across it and the trees lining the property still remained.

"Look," he said putting a gentle hand on Wolfram's shoulder. "I think that what Shinou showed you was a lie. You know, the best lies are based on truth—a twisted truth. And, I'm sure that what Shinou showed you was just a way of getting you and me to see that we…"

"We?"

"…Need each other..."

The blond noticed that Yuuri was really shy with "need each other" but that he meant it.

Yuuri blushed a little but continued. "In his own bizarre way, Shinou was trying to make us recognize that we belong together."

Wolfram said quietly, "I suppose you're right." He scanned the remains of the village again—taking everything else in.

Yuuri followed Wolfram's lead—looking around at the smoldering remains of the village. "I know that this is the absolute worst situation to tell you this… And I've been trying to find a 'perfect time,' but I can't. And I really need to tell you…"

Wolfram eyed him curiously. What did his wimp want to say?

He dug the toe of his shoe into the soft earth awkwardly. "I've thought about this before… When I left through the vortex for Earth, for what I thought was the final time, and I said 'sayonara,' I couldn't look at you. I couldn't look back. I said sayonara…but I didn't really mean it. I know I said it, but my heart didn't. Does that make any sense? You're the only person I can't say 'goodbye' to."

Yuuri's hand stroked Wolfram's. Then, the double black linked his pinkie finger with his fiancé's. It was subtle—a sweet and innocent gesture. Totally Yuuri. The blond turned away slightly to hide the grin he couldn't suppress.

It didn't work. Yuuri was good at reading his fiancé. "I'm glad Shinou's vision was a lie. I need you in my life, Wolfram."

That got him a grin—a wide one.

"And one other thing…I wanted to say," Yuuri said, feeling his heartbeat quickening_. I have to say this. I want to. And, right now, he needs to hear it. _Yuuri resisted the urge to twiddle his thumbs or play with his fingers anxiously. He'd never confessed his feelings to anyone before. But he knew that he would not be rejected. Their hearts were the same and their souls linked.

"Wolfram, I lo-"

There was a snap. Wolfram heard it. A twig snapped behind the tree.

His eyes taking everything in. It all fit. He'd seen it before. The images all snapped into place.

_The vision! I'm standing right where…I…die…_

"Oh, hell!" Wolfram shouted, shoving Yuuri backwards while Morgif moaned a series of warning cries to his clueless master.

There was no time to conjure fire. He smoothly drew his sword with the metallic sound that Wolfram had come to expect. And, without hesitation, he charged into the thick brush behind a tree, disappearing behind a leafy barrier.

Metal clashed and there were grunts. The sound of dirt kicking up and a little brown cloud of it mixed with ash floated.

"Wolfram?!" Yuuri shouted, panicked. He forced himself to stand even though his legs were wobbling beneath him.

It drew the attention of Conrad, Yozak, and some nearby soldiers. They turned and ran for Yuuri with swords at the ready—yelling demands to know what was going on.

"Wolfram!" He shouted again, feeling his happiness slipping away. His future…. Would he even have one after this moment?

There was a scream. It was Wolfram.

His blood ran cold.

"Morgif," Yuuri said with determination, "Let's go!" Yuuri slid the heavy demon sword from its sheath and charged. With each step, his hair grew longer and his eyes darkened. There were black slits. The body shifted, growing slightly and with more defined muscles, feet slamming into the ground like a batter running for home. Blue energy crackled around him, pulsing with the rotation of the blue bands of light.

_I need you to save Wolfram_, Yuuri begged in his heart. _One more time…please!_

Rushed steps continued, avoiding debris and tall weeds.

_No_, was the answer, _we will save our beloved…together_.

Morgif was raised to strike the male figure dressed in black and brown with a ragged hood over his face. His sword was striking Wolfram's.

_As one,_ Yuuri answered the maou, _together…we'll do it!_

Wolfram and the stranger had their swords crossed and pressed together. Wolfram's plan was to draw as near to the enemy as possible and then kick the stupid man away—preferably in the crotch. A shadow above them blocking the sun told them that they were not alone. They suddenly noticed the presence of another person rushing down at them. Both Yuuri and The Demon King held onto Morgif and swung hard, knocking the bandit back.

Wolfram's jaw dropped as he stepped away with a dazed expression. The Demon King stood there with bands of energy swirling. The powerful bands struck the trees and the shrubbery—sending blasts of plant debris away from them. Conrad, Yozak, and five of Wolfram's elite guards watched, almost terrified, at the scene. When it seemed safe enough, they approached with caution, not wanting to draw the wrath of the long haired maou.

Wolfram, a bloody slash mark on his cheek, watched in wonder. This was the power of his fiancé but it wasn't the only part of Yuuri that he was in love with. Nonetheless, it was an awesome thing to watch as the enemy dropped the sword, doubled over, and groveled at his feet.

Sharp eyes looked down on the man before him. "As the 27th Maou of Shin-Makoku, I, Shibuya Yuri, pass judgment on you for the attempt on my beloved's life."

The winds picked up even higher as the man's hood fell back. It was a human, in his early forties, who had a face like tanned leather with deep scars on his forearms and hands. This one was tough, determined, and knew what he wanted. He also knew that he failed.

"I do not accept your judgment, demon. I will make one of my own!" he shouted back above the roar. He reached down into his boot and pulled out a small dagger. He placed it to his own throat and made a hard cut. Blood flew in the wind and his body crumpled immediately.

Wolfram turned his face away before it happened. He could see it coming, but he was equally sure that Yuuri probably didn't and would need some comforting later because of it. When faced with failure, a few of the veteran bandits were known to do this. And, yes, he found some measure of pity coming from somewhere for this strange man who was his "would be" assassin. But, that pang of pity aside, the blond never found taking one's own life honorable. Wolfram preferred to fight to the last with a sword in hand. At least, you would go to the afterlife with the knowledge that you tried.

The winds died down and Yuuri sunk to his knees, shaking hard as he transformed back. This really wasn't the outcome that he had expected. It never occurred to him that the man would end things this way.

Yuuri's body sagged. His form slowly shifted back to short, boyish hair and soft features. Dark eyes filled with tears. He'd failed. That's what it felt like.

Gingerly, Wolfram touched the bleeding cut on his face as he took even, and very painful strides in Yuuri's direction. It was time to escort his wimp back to the castle. Maybe, he could get the double black to take a long bath and then he'd give Yuuri another back rub like he got earlier today after their argument. Of course, the make out session that would probably follow, just as it had this morning, would be fun as well. Wolfram cursed his bruised ribs. Now, they hurt even more than they did when he woke up this morning. Just breathing was painful. He must have done something to himself when fighting that goon. Then, the thought occurred to him. Maybe, Yuuri could give HIM a little TLC with some healing magic. He'd probably be well in no time after that. The blond wore a sexy smile at the thought.

A thump.

Wolfram stopped. He shifted his gaze to the dirt covered cellar doors. There was another "thump" and the metallic rattling of something hollow, maybe a bucket, rolling around inside.

_Oh, no! Not another one__!_

He drew his sword.

Wolfram, weapon at the ready, ran towards the danger. Forcing himself to leave instead what his heart wanted—to run to Yuuri's side and shield him.

_In the dream, Shinou talked about my "heart's desire." I won't lose Yuuri to these people the way we lost the whole village. __I will not watch him die. I will not bury him._ He blinked back tears. _If this is the end, then I'll go first, Yuuri. And I'll wait for you across the river. As long as it takes, I'll wait_. He rubbed away tears with the heel of his hand._ Join me when you've lived long enough…when you're a very old man. I just hope you'll still want me after all that time…that I'll still mean something to you._

"You can't have Yuuri," he breathed. Wolfram placed two fingers to his temple and uttered the words with a renewed determination, accepting what was to come, "All the beings that make up the element of fire, obey this brave Mazoku who summons you!" He made a sweeping motion with ribbons of flame flowing from his hands. He hurled the fireball at the doors to the shed and they exploded. Dirt rained down.

The blast caught everyone's attention.

As exhausted as he was, his head shot up and turned in the direction of the now smoldering doors that the blond entered. "Wolfram! No! Stop!" he shouted as Conrad took a limp arm and tried to steady his godson on shaky feet.

Yozak was already on his way—his faun colored tunic rustling against his well-built frame. Wolfram's elite guard gathered from all over the village, sensing the power of Wolfram's magic.

"Conrad, let's go!" he said.

With a grain of satisfaction, he saw Conrad draw his sword. They needed Wolfram back. That was all there was to it.

Nearing the smoldering doorway, Yuuri pushed people aside, not caring who they were. He was too focused on his fiancé anyway.

The cellar was cool and dark on the inside. It seemed to have a dirt floor, walls made of stone and mortar, and the framed structure of a wooden shed perched on top. There were light brown baskets filled with vegetables, mostly potatoes and carrots, with two small shelves that had containers of rock salt, jam, and salted herring. Lighting the interior, Yuuri saw the glow of three baseball sized fireballs hovering in mid air.

"Wolfram!" Yuuri practically shouted from the smoldering doorway, still upset. "What were you thinking?!" He was overjoyed, furious, relieved, and annoyed all at once.

Wolfram turned from his work. His sword was sheathed and he seemed to be untangling something from a thick coil of rope.

"Sorry, Yuuri…" he said distractedly.

"Sorry?! That's all you have to say?" Okay, they were going to start their next argument right here and now. It didn't matter who was listening in.

Then, Wolfram sat the little figure up. It was filthy, covered in dirt. The blue clad soldier took out his canteen and poured—much to Yuuri's surprise.

"Wolfram, what are…you…?" He entered the cellar and ducked under the first fireball. "This is…" His eyes stared in wonder as Wolfram washed the filth away with gentle strokes of his hand to reveal yellow, matted hair. Brown eyes, so dark that they were practically black, blinked up at him innocently. The double black's first thought was _a_ _sunflower_.

"I think," Wolfram said while picking up the baby, "we've found the sole survivor."

"So it is," Yuuri said as a sigh, suddenly realizing that his fears had left him. It was a relief. This was over. Then, glancing around them he added, "Let's go, Wolfram. It's time to leave."

Two pairs of feet clomped up the simple wooden steps. They emerged from the cellar into the bright light. Yuuri noticed the looks from Conrad and Yozak. They, too, were surprised at the outcome.

"It's a…baby…" Conrad said, still trying to wrap his mind around the odds of one surviving the attack.

"The mother probably hid it in there when the raid started," Yozak said with some regret, remembering his own difficult childhood. He felt a warm hand on his back and gave a wry smile. The orange haired man murmured a quiet "thank you."

Passing a group of his elite guard, Wolfram walked with Yuuri at his side. Their horses, not being tied, had been startled at the first sign of trouble. But, later, they wandered off to the fountain for a drink during all the fiery chaos. The goldfish avoided their noses.

Tiny brown eyes met with green ones.

_My heart's desire…that's what this is…_

"Yuuri?" Wolfram said with a determined edge while running his fingers through the shock of blond baby hair to get a dirt clod out of it. "I'm keeping the baby."

Yuuri stopped in his tracks and stared, with his jaw practically on the ground. Wolfram took several more paces towards the horses alone and then turned with his head tilted to one side. With the morning light shining on them, Wolfram and the small child were a matched set—both golden, wan, and fragile. The infant in Wolfram's arms seemed so right. One complemented the other, holding and being held.

"Yuuri?"

The baby's filthy apricot colored shirt and lacy diaper cover were smudging dirt and half dried mud clumps all over Wolfram's impeccable uniform. But Wolfram didn't care in the slightest. He cuddled the baby anyway. Chubby legs swung gleefully.

Yuuri smiled to himself and scratched his head. "I don't know why I'm surprised." He shrugged and then stepped lively to catch up with his fiancé. The two walked away, elbow to elbow. But it wasn't enough. Yuuri wanted—no, _needed_—more. With a nod of acceptance, knowing it was the right thing to do, he slid an arm gently around Wolfram's waist and leaned into him softly.

"But, you know what this means, right?" He said the words quietly into a shell-like ear and then, with his other hand, brushed dirt off of the baby's cheek.

"No," Wolfram said, confused. There was a growing frown between his brows.

"Well, with you and me and two kids, I'm definitely going to need to make an honest man out of you." He grinned at that. "It makes me wonder how quickly your mother and mine can plan a wedding."

Wolfram grinned. "A wedding…" he said with a glow. Then, he looked at the baby again. It was sitting up in his arms with pudgy hands patting his neck. He lifted his chin and the baby started to play with the silver antique neckchain. Next, the baby turned to Yuuri and said "Bah!" A tiny hand gripped the finger of the double black when it was offered.

"Well, I wonder what kind of wielder the baby will be?" Wolfram mused while rubbing his nose against a tiny button nose. The baby giggled.

They got to the horses and stopped.

"I wonder what we'll name her," Yuuri said with a contemplative, questioning tone. "Naomi? Ayami? Ai?"

Wolfram pulled back the diaper and looked in owlishly. "I'd name him Ken."

--THE END--

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